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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29214612">Burning Bridges</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsJohnReese/pseuds/MrsJohnReese'>MrsJohnReese</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnificent Seven (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:47:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,775</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29214612</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsJohnReese/pseuds/MrsJohnReese</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam was not one to back down from a challenge, no matter the odds. To her, doing anything other than meeting it head on was unthinkable. And so when a chance encounter the first night of her return home ends in an opportunity to eliminate a violent criminal enterprise, what other choice did she have but to say yes? Even if it means she loses more than she gains, as a result. ATF AU</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ezra Standish/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Somethin' I can get you, darlin'?"</p><p>"Whiskey. Keep 'em coming," The young woman replied, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and doing her best to ignore the slight surprise in the bartender's expression as he so clearly had assumed she would order some fru-fru cocktail, or a glass of wine, instead.</p><p>"Rough night?"</p><p>"You have no idea."</p><p>"Why not try a bottle of chardonnay, instead?" The bartender suggested, then, taking in the slight quirk of an eyebrow that the remark had earned him, and yet choosing to press on, regardless, "Whiskey's likely to make a girl forget how vulnerable she might be, wanderin' around on her own. Get her into trouble."</p><p>"Pretty sure I can handle some trouble, if it comes to that," The woman assured, mindful of the small blade kept inside her right boot, and the gun kept hidden in the holster beneath her dark leather jacket, as well, "I'll be fine."</p><p>"Suit yourself. But don't go blamin' me if you end up gettin' more than what you bargained for. Men in here are known for bein' a bit frisky."</p><p>"Wouldn't dream of it."</p><p>A curt nod seemed the only form of response she was likely to get, after her somewhat abrupt refusal of a more feminine choice in beverages, the slight twitch at her lip belying her amusement as she accepted the glass from the bartender's outstretched hand, and threw it back with a practiced sort of ease that had him looking on in amazement and perhaps a bit of apprehension, as well. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the young woman knew she risked drawing more attention to herself by acting out of the ordinary, though she had never quite fit the mold of the vapid little city girl that many of her former schoolmates had been. Another slight twitch of the lips came about as she thought of exactly what some of her former friends might think, if they could see her, now…</p><p>But then, she knew she would fare far better if she avoided thinking about that, at all.</p><p>Shaking herself from memories that she knew would do her far more harm than good, the young woman settled instead on accepting a refilled glass from the bartender, and throwing that back, as well, a slight wince passing over her features as the liquor burned at her throat on the way down. If luck held, the continued supply of whiskey would dull her wayward thoughts enough to give her the courage to fend for herself for one final night alone, granting her enough time to gather the fortitude required to make her presence known on the one day of every year that could bring her to her knees. Of course, she knew, somehow, that she might be making things worse, by turning up, unannounced. That finding her brother when he least expected it could very likely prove every bit as harmful to the both of them as it could be helpful. But in spite of that, the young woman was still determined to persist as she had been these last few days, her lips pursing as she took a steadying breath, before forcing herself back to the present, and taking the third shot that had been poured while she was otherwise occupied in her own thoughts.</p><p>"I could be wrong, ma'am, but if you continue on as you are, you might find yourself the victim of a most disadvantageous hangover, come mornin'."</p><p>"Maybe that's the point," The woman returned, not even bothering to give the man who had spoken the benefit of a glance, as she downed a fourth shot, and noted with some wry amusement that this time, she could hardly register the burn of the whiskey at all, "And if I'm not mistaken, you aren't all that far behind me, either."</p><p>"Now, how on earth would you know that?"</p><p>"I've been told I'm fairly observant."</p><p>"Well, I suppose in this case, whoever told you that has the benefit of being correct," The man remarked, the soft scrape of a chair moving against the floor serving as the only sound the woman needed to realize he was preparing to take the empty chair beside her, instead of remaining in his former place a few seats away, "Might I inquire as to what it is that has you drinking like a fish this evening?"</p><p>"You can inquire all you like. Doesn't mean you're going to get an answer."</p><p>"Then I suppose this is where I might feel compelled to inform you that I have been told I can be fairly persistent, when it comes to getting those answers."</p><p>"Is that supposed to persuade me to relent?" The young woman inquired, finally shifting just a bit to grant herself a better look at her newfound companion, and stifling the immediate instinct that wanted to persuade her to draw back in response to just how close he seemed to be, "If it is, I think it might require a little bit of work."</p><p>"What a shame. Years of experience, and I'm rendered useless by one woman. What is a man to do to gain respite from the shame?"</p><p>"Seems like that's on you to figure out, not me."</p><p>"Perhaps you might assist me, regardless," The man pressed, a smile that promised nothing but mischief toying at the corners of his mouth, and almost tempting his companion into granting him one of her own, save for the effort she exerted to chew the inside of her cheek to prevent the act through sheer force of will, "In the spirit of being ladylike, and all."</p><p>"What if I were to tell you I'm not interested in bein' ladylike?"</p><p>"Then I suppose I would next ask what you were interested in."</p><p>"And you think I would tell you," The woman surmised, once again risking a glance at her companion's features, and noting with some chagrin that his vocabulary appeared to be matched in kind by his appearance, as well. In direct contrast to the other patrons scattered around the bar, this man was impeccably dressed, the crisp fabric of the button-down shirt he wore seeming almost perfectly fitted for the dark jeans that were situated almost seamlessly over unmarked leather boots. And although every instinct she possessed was all but screaming at her to not allow herself to be taken in by the man's apparent penchant for charm, there was also something about him that seemed to suggest he might be a perfect distraction from her lingering nerves over the days to come at the same time.</p><p>If nothing else, maybe just granting the man the faintest hints of the belief that he had, in fact, succeeded in getting her to let her guard down, even for a moment, would prove enough to keep her mind off of the dull edge of the pain that lingered, even beneath the fog brought about by the liquor she had already consumed.</p><p>"What if we were to start by your agreement to tell me something far simpler," The man suggested, seeming to sense the wariness in his companion's slight frame, and attempting to waylay it by diverting his attention from her for just long enough to flag the bartender over for a refill for the two of them to enjoy, together.</p><p>"And what might that be?"</p><p>"Your name."</p><p>Laughing in response to the startlingly plaintive nature of the request, the young woman turned to face her newfound companion head-on, green eyes searching his features for any hint of a motive beyond simply finding someone to share the night with, and coming up empty in almost seconds, flat. Something at the back of her mind still seemed determined to believe this was a foolish endeavor. That she would be far better served by retreating to the room she had rented for the evening, alone, rather than remaining down at the bar, engaging in idle word-play with a complete stranger. But something stronger, perhaps spurred on by the whiskey she had consumed, persuaded her to stay, her expression softening just a bit as she donned a half-smile, while the bartender poured the requested refills, and she leaned forward almost conspiratorially towards her would-be friend before she replied.</p><p>"For that, you're gonna have to buy me a few more drinks."</p><p>"Consider it done."</p><p>Whether it was wise, or the precise opposite, it seemed her fate, for that night, at least, had just been sealed.</p><p>…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Well, not only have you swindled me out of a significant portion of my drinking funds, but you are now quite literally wiping the floor with me at pool," Ezra commented, unable to completely suppress the wry smile that tugged at his lips as he took in the obvious self-satisfaction in his opponent's expression, and the way in which she did not even bother attempting to show remorse, "It almost makes a gentleman wonder what he is to do with you."</p><p>"A gentleman probably wouldn't wonder at all," Sam quipped, leaning against the cue stick held in front of her frame, and effecting a shrug to feign innocence as she took in the slightly raised brow Ezra had given her in response, "Just my two cents on the topic."</p><p>"Indeed. If you come up with any other directives on how I can salvage my dignity, please, feel free to divulge."</p><p>"Wouldn't that make it too easy?"</p><p>"My dear, at this point in the game, does that really matter?"</p><p>Smiling in response to the retort, and noting almost immediately that it lacked any real venom behind it, Sam moved away from her position opposite her would be opponent, closing the distance between them until she stood close enough that she could smell the faint scent of the man's cologne. Before she could second guess her own intentions, she was leaning over towards him as he lined up his next shot, her body angled against his such that when she spoke again, her breath gusted faintly against his ear, and caused the cue ball to miss its target completely as a result.</p><p>"I don't know. Does it?"</p><p>A curse escaped before Ezra could fully stop it as he realized exactly what the woman standing at his side had done, though even he was forced to admit the oath hardly held any weight at all. As he straightened to his full height once again, he registered the faintest brush of his companion's hair against his bare forearm until she moved to do the same. And before he could fully stop himself, Ezra found himself shifting until Sam was rather firmly situated between the pool table and his own taller frame, green eyes searching her own for a moment while the hand that was not still holding the cue stick reached out to brush against her arm.</p><p>"I believe you already know the answer to that question."</p><p>"Maybe I do," Sam admitted, wetting her lips with her tongue, and hoping with all that she had that her reaction to this man's proximity would not make itself known upon her face, even in spite of the fact that some small part of her almost wished for the precise opposite. She would have been a fool to ignore the intrigue she felt over exactly where this entire encounter could go, though whether that was a direct result of the buzz of the liquor she had continued to consume, or something else entirely, she could not tell. But something in the man's demeanor had her all but tempted to press for whatever this was to go farther, her head tilting back just a bit so that she could look the practical stranger in the eye before she leaned back against the pool table, and offered a sultry smile that earned her another quirked brow in response, "I guess I'm curious to see what you might do in the wake of such a confession."</p><p>"Perhaps I am not inclined to acquiesce to your wishes, in this particular situation."</p><p>"Oh?"</p><p>"Indeed."</p><p>"Can I ask why?"</p><p>"You may," Ezra allowed, regarding the woman who truly did not seem to opposed to her current position wedged between him, and the pool table at her back for a moment, and deciding that she might not object to him stepping a bit closer as a result, "But that does not mean I will relent and provide you with a straight answer."</p><p>"And to think you were so kind, buying me drinks."</p><p>"I am not a kind person, by nature, my dear. I suspect you are already aware of that."</p><p>"I think I am," Sam agreed, allowing one hand to lift from its position resting palm-flat against the pool table so that she could curl her fingertips around the cue stick her partner was holding while his other hand moved to cage her in, resting beside her hip on the edge of the table, "Maybe I don't care."</p><p>"That would be a grievous error, on your part."</p><p>"Not the first mistake I've made. Won't be the last, either."</p><p>"Something tells me I ought to be offended at your insinuation that I might be a mistake," Ezra mused, a grin turning up one corner of his mouth as he risked another step towards the woman he seemed to find so alluring, and suppressing his pleasure at the slightest of hitched breaths that the act provoked, even in spite of her obvious desire to remain as aloof as he seemed to be on the surface, himself, "And once again I am left to wonder what I am to do with you."</p><p>"How about you try for surprising me, and we see how it goes?"</p><p>Allowing his lips to form a full grin in response to the barely veiled taunt, Ezra simply watched for a moment as his apparent lack of objection to the idea and its implications caused his companion to allow a faint smirk free as a result. Before he could fully stop himself, he was leaning forward, lifting the hand not holding the cue stick to brush a stray lock of dark hair behind his companion's ear so that he could attempt to mimic the act she had used, herself, just moments before, the slight shiver she gave as his breath blew against the shell of her ear going farther to confirm her willingness to partake in whatever the night might lead them to, than the shaky nod she managed as soon as he asked the question that had been plaguing his mind almost from the moment they met.</p><p>"I assume you have a room somewhere nearby?"</p><p>Ezra Standish was not normally a man to walk away, even in the face of defeat, but even he had to admit that sometimes, other, more pressing needs won out over the drive to maintain his reputation as a man who held his ground, no matter what.</p><p>…</p><p>"Ow!" Sam laughed, her breath leaving her lungs in a rush as her back collided with the recently closed door of her hotel room, though she made no attempt to do anything other than use the way in which her arms were slung around her companion's neck while he mouthed at the skin of her throat as leverage to pull him closer, "So much for you bein' a gentleman."</p><p>"I seem to recall you objecting to that particular quality when I made mention of it before."</p><p>"Did I? That's news to me."</p><p>"Perhaps I should take that as reason to cease and desist," Ezra murmured against heated skin, never once pulling back from where he was pressed so close to Sam's shorter frame that he could feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she attempted to control her breathing, "I'm hardly in the habit of fraternizing with women who cannot give their full consent."</p><p>"Don't you dare," Sam protested, shifting her hands so they could begin to card through the close-cut hair at the back of her companion's neck, her nails scraping against his scalp in such a way that she was forced to bite down on a laugh as she felt a groan reverberating through the connection between his lips, and her pulsepoint, "I'd hate to think you were the sort to lead a lady on, for false promises."</p><p>"Very funny. As I recall we are in your hotel room."</p><p>"We are."</p><p>"Then it seems to me you are the one at liberty to make false promises, as you may force me from the premises any time you like."</p><p>"I don't think I'm going to be doing that," Sam assured, her hands dropping from Ezra's hair, to drift down so that she might attempt to begin the task of assisting him out of his jacket instead, "Not yet."</p><p>"I suppose I am relieved."</p><p>Unable to resist the laugh that broke free in response to the dry comment, Sam forced the jacket from her companion's shoulders so that it hit the floor with a dull thud, her eyes widening just a bit as she realized that, in the sparse amount of time when she had ventured to the restroom before they departed the bar slash billiards hall, he appeared to have donned a wrist holster, in addition to the weapon she had already made brief note of, stowed at his belt. Clearly, the establishment they had visited was more than a little lax about concealed firearms, though Sam would never have been the first to complain about the reality, having a few of her own hidden away more often than not when she ventured out, as well. But before she could find it in herself to make a comment about that very fact, she found herself distracted by the realization that Ezra appeared to have beaten her to it, his brow quirked as though he were suddenly apprehensive as to the precise nature of his reaction while he removed the holster, and set it on the table just a few feet away from the door.</p><p>"My apologies."</p><p>"No need," Sam assured, shrugging out of her own jacket, and biting the inside of her lip to keep from grinning in response to the soft huff of surprise from her companion as the act revealed he was not the only one who could be accused of packing heat, "Great minds think alike, I suppose."</p><p>"Expecting danger at a dive bar. What are the odds," Ezra murmured, reaching for Sam's arm as soon as she had deposited the weapon on the table beside his own, and pulling her towards him even in spite of the slight gasp she gave as her chest bumped against his own. Almost immediately he found his lips seeking contact with her own, the faintest hints of whiskey registering as he did so. But just as he had started to give himself over completely to the task of kissing the woman in his arms senseless, he found himself stuttering a bit in the act, his fingertips tracing against the hem of her jeans in their attempts at connecting with the skin of her back, only to come up short as they bumped against the rough hilt of a knife sticking up from her back pocket.</p><p>"My my, aren't we full of surprises this evenin'."</p><p>"We aim to please," Sam breathed, watching carefully as Ezra removed the blade from its position stowed against the small of her back, his green eyes investigating the object for a moment before he set it behind him on the table, and lifted a hand to the top button of her shirt, "Let me do that."</p><p>Withdrawing his hand and allowing the woman to unbutton her shirt, bit by bit, Ezra allowed himself to simply watch her movements, the slight rise and fall of her chest belying her obviously shallow breaths as her fingers caught on a particularly reluctant button, and she was forced to bring her momentum to a pause. Unbidden, a frown tugged at her lips, until she felt the gentle pressure of a larger pair of hands coming to rest atop her own. And before she could even reconcile herself to the act, Sam was glancing at her companion's far too alluring green eyes, her hands dropping to rest against his chest while he took over the act of negotiating with the stubborn button that had given her so much trouble.</p><p>"Allow me."</p><p>In spite of how it went against every instinct she possessed, Sam forced herself to remain still while Ezra finished the impromptu war with her shirt buttons, the sensation of calloused hands grazing against her skin as her companion pushed the fabric away from her shoulders causing her to emit a half-pleased hum before she could stop it. It was obvious that the sound pleased her companion, the soft whoosh of her shirt brushing against his already discarded jacket on the floor hardly registering as he offered her a slight smirk before snaking his arms around her waist to pull her close once more. Instinctively, Sam tilted her head back until her lips could brush against his own, while her hands ran over the flat plane of his abdomen and she registered the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his shirt. And, half in an attempt at evening the score, Sam allowed her fingertips to graze against the gun holstered at his hip, her fingers making quick work of relieving him of the weapon even in spite of the fog taking over her mind while he used her momentary distraction as leave to cup her face between calloused hands, and deepen the kiss they shared before she had the chance to object.</p><p>Not that she would have, of course…</p><p>Stretching her arm over towards the table to deposit the weapon she had just dislodged from its owner upon the surface, Sam soon found herself laughing as she stumbled a bit, and created a bit of a clatter as a result. With one hand still flat upon Ezra's chest, she attempted to right herself, her laughter that came about in response to her sudden lack of coordination muffled just a bit by the continued motion of Ezra's lips upon her own. But just as she had been prepared to give herself over to the onslaught of oblivion that threatened to take over if she gave in completely to what they so clearly both seemed to desire, Sam found herself emitting a startled whine of protest as her companion pulled away from her almost completely, the only indication that he was equally as displeased at the notion of any prolonged separation being the lingering pressure of his hand against the skin of her side, the pad of his thumb tracing an idle pattern against her hip bone while he spoke.</p><p>"Perhaps we would be prudent to make any necessary additions to our little arsenal before this goes any further."</p><p>Only able to manage a faint nod in response, Sam settled in to the task of stooping to relieve herself of the knife concealed inside her right boot, and its twin on the left, her mouth twitching as she looked up to realize Ezra had pulled a few more weapons out of hiding places she had not yet unearthed, as well. Even the briefest of glances at the table would likely give an ordinary citizen reason to believe they should be backing away from the room, and making a dash for it as soon as physically possible. But as neither she, or her companion regarded the weapons with anything other than the barest consideration, Sam soon allowed herself to resume her earlier task of attempting to rid Ezra of his own shirt as he had done for her, her eyes glinting a bit mischievously as she finally succeeded in tossing the offending garment to the side, and regarded the fruits of her handiwork first-hand.</p><p>"See something you like?"</p><p>"What on earth would give you that idea?" She inquired, her brow furrowing just a bit as she registered the sensation of Ezra's palm coming to rest against her cheek, until he was shifting so that his fingers could card through a few loose strands of her hair, instead. In contrast to the haste of their previous actions, Sam was at a loss to explain the momentary softening of Ezra's expression, though he was quick enough to force it to the side in favor of what was quickly becoming a trademark smirk as he used the leverage of his fingers tangling in her hair to tug her just a bit closer before leaning down to speak in her ear, the slight hoarseness of his voice prompting a satisfied grin to form upon her lips while she allowed her hands to drift to the buckle of his belt not long thereafter.</p><p>"Why don't you let me show you, and we can proceed from there?"</p><p>As she found herself spun around and propelled backwards until her calves bumped against the bed frame, the impact causing her to stumble and drag her companion down with her onto the mattress, Sam would have been a liar to pretend that Ezra's suggestion was not precisely what she had in mind, as well.</p><p>…</p><p>"Late night, Ez?"</p><p>"I will refrain from commenting about my nocturnal activities in favor of noting that you appear the worse for wear, as well, Mr. Wilmington," Ezra returned, shrugging out of his jacket and arranging it over the back of his chair, before settling in, and firing up the computer stationed atop his desk without a backward glance, "Am I to infer you finally garnered some success with Ms. Rocios?"</p><p>"Please," Buck scoffed, disentangling long legs from their former position crossed at the ankles, and hauling himself to stand so that he could mosey over towards Ezra's desk, while the younger man fished around for the paperwork he had neglected to finish the evening before, "That woman is as slippery as a snake in a mud pit. I need time to evaluate before tryin' to win her over again."</p><p>"Then who was it this time? Barbara? Or perhaps Megan in accounting?"</p><p>"Melanie."</p><p>"From-"</p><p>"Applebee's."</p><p>"Well, Mister Wilmington, your good taste surely knows no bounds," Ezra surmised, a sarcastic smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he glanced back at his companion, one brow lifting in obvious surprise as he realized Buck had taken the liberty of perching on the edge of his desk the better to regard him with what was perhaps one of the more skeptical expressions he had ever seen him wear since he had joined the team nearly eight months ago to the day, "What is it you wish to ask me?"</p><p>"How-how'd you know I wanted to ask ya somethin'?"</p><p>"Because you generally reserve the tactic of conspicuous hovering for a time in which you are waiting for the opportune moment to wonder over something inane."</p><p>"I'm gonna assume you weren't usin' your fancy talk to insult me, and give you the win this time," Buck remarked, completely missing the slightest hint of amusement in Ezra's gaze in favor of going on, "What on earth were you up to, last night?"</p><p>"Whatever do you mean?"</p><p>"I mean that, for a man who claimed to have no special plans, you sure did a fine job of not answerin' your phone. The kid and I called to see if you wanted to check out that new nightclub goin' up a few blocks down. Check out the feminine real estate, an' such."</p><p>"Well I am sorry to have missed your call."</p><p>"Could've used you out there, Ez. That's why we went to Applebee's. Couldn't make any headway to save our skins."</p><p>"The evening seems to have panned out in your favor, regardless," Ezra reassured, watching as Buck managed a nod and a shrug by way of acknowledgement, before going on, "And how did our esteemed Mr. Dunne fair?"</p><p>"He came in jabberin' away about Melanie's little friend Irene, so I reckon it went pretty well."</p><p>"I reckon so."</p><p>Before the two of them could get any further in their discussion about the events of the evening prior, the sound of muted footfalls coming from the general vicinity of their aptly nicknamed fearless leader's office effectively diverted their attention, the realization that their socialization would have to be cut short causing Buck to stand once again, catching the familiar glint to Chris Larabee's eyes that could only mean one thing.</p><p>They had another case, and it was not likely to be an easy one…</p><p>"Conference room, now. Buck, make sure JD and Vin get the memo. We need to get on this one fast."</p><p>…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam sat in the driver's seat of the familiar grey truck that had been a gift from her aunt on her sixteenth birthday, her fingers clenching and unclenching around the worn leather of the steering wheel as she sat on the side of the small path winding through the cemetery and struggled to gather up the courage to exit the vehicle and head towards the destination she had been endeavoring to avoid for far longer than she cared to admit. She had never been comfortable with things like this. With facing things that she would rather simply ignore altogether. But the reality of the matter was, she had to face this. It was the reason she had even returned to Denver to begin with. And inasmuch as she hardly wanted to do this by herself, Sam knew that she was far better off following through now, and hopefully getting it all out of her system before she came within three feet of her brother later that day.</p><p>As bad as she knew she was with any sort of emotional display, she knew that Chris could be far, far worse.</p><p>Squeezing her eyes shut in hopes that a moment or two without anything to divert her attention would grant her the wherewithal she so clearly needed to just get out of the truck, Sam focused on taking slow, even breaths, the burning at the back of her throat and the corners of her eyes provoking a low groan before she could fully stand a chance of stopping it. She could practically hear Sarah teasing her for fighting so hard against what could only be a normal reaction to an untenable situation. But Sarah was in the ground, now. She was the entire reason Sam was in Denver to begin with.</p><p>She would never hear her best friend teasing her again.</p><p>"Jesus, Larabee, get yourself together," Sam hissed to herself, dragging a hand through dark hair, and allowing herself to lean forward until her forehead bumped against the steering wheel while she struggled to regain some modicum of her composure. It was far more difficult than she cared to admit, her teeth grinding together as she struggled to hold onto anything that would keep her from spiralling over the edge. And although she wished it was not the case, she could not help but allow her mind to stray to the events of the evening prior, instinct all but demanding that she recoil from the idea of using the memory as anything to cling to, though she did not give that particular instinct too much of her time, whether it was wise to be ignoring it or not.</p><p>Sam had never been the sort to overanalyze or obsess over a fling, regardless of how much she might have liked the man in question, preferring to simply move on rather than dwelling on the past. Of course she could appreciate the irony of the given situation, as dwelling on the past was, in fact, what had landed her in her current predicament to start with. But before she could become far too caught up in the implications of that very realization, Sam was forcing herself to unbuckle her seatbelt and hop down from the driver's side of the truck, the heels of her boots scraping a bit against the uneven pavement as though even her attire had started protesting the idea of facing the two tombstones she had chosen to walk towards, whether she wanted to or not. She could feel her breath coming in short gasps, a stitch in her side prompting her to lift a hand to place, palm flat against the soft leather of her jacket. And although it would have been a lie to pretend she did not know what this was-that she had not seen it coming as soon as she made the decision to come here on her own, Sam resisted the urge to simply turn around and head back towards the relative safety of her truck, her jaw clenching once again as she forced herself to simply keep moving forward.</p><p>She was a Larabee. Larabees were not weak.</p><p>They did not cave under pressure.</p><p>Determined to hold true to that quality, Sam shoved her hands inside her jacket pockets as she continued walking, her boots sinking into the slightly muddy ground as she stepped from the paved drive to the grass instead. Somehow, even with the distraction presented by the pressure of her fingernails digging into the skin of her palms, Sam could not seem to slow her breathing, her lips thinning into a line as she forced herself forward despite the lingering pain in her chest. But regardless of how she knew that the difficulty she was experiencing in simply drawing breath was hardly a good thing, Sam soon found that she had finally succeeded in reaching her destination, her teeth coming out to dig into her lower lip as she squeezed her eyes shut and focused upon the task of attempting to corral her wayward emotions into some semblance of order before she lost control over them entirely.</p><p>She missed her best friend and nephew more than she could ever put into words, but she would be damned if she let that turn her into one of those sad, weepy women hovering over gravesites that were so often romanticized in old movies, and music videos…</p><p>She was a Larabee, after all.</p><p>And Larabees were not weak.</p><p>…</p><p>"Somethin' wrong with Chris today?" JD inquired, fiddling with the empty styrofoam cup that he had just drained of the coffee they had grabbed from the diner across the street from where they were currently parked, watching the comings and goings in the various shops surrounding them in the hopes that the man they were hoping to snare made an appearance, himself, "He seems a bit-well-"</p><p>"Spit it out, kid. Use your words."</p><p>"He just seemed a bit quieter today. Than-than normal, I mean."</p><p>"There's a good reason for that, JD," Buck informed, shifting just a bit in the driver's seat in hopes of gaining some traction when it came to stretching out his legs, and running a hand across his face as a means of buying some time to think over how best to proceed. He of all people knew exactly what it was that had Chris on edge today. He knew better than most that it may very well have been the reason why they had all been thrown into the current case they were working, despite having just finished a different one, and earned some respite as a result. And although he had every suspicion that JD would not rest until he obtained a straight answer to the question he had asked, Buck also knew that to divulge something that was not his, by rights, to tell, would likely only do more harm than good.</p><p>Chris Larabee was not a man to tolerate the idea of anyone knowing certain details of his past without his express permission, and that permission had certainly not yet been given as far as it concerned their newest team-mate and friend.</p><p>Still, there was something to be said for full disclosure, when it came to working as a unit, where the operation of the team as a whole relied on the existence of complete trust between the individuals comprising it, and Buck knew more than most that if any one of them were distracted by personal matters, it could mean a bad outcome for the entire team.</p><p>"Hey-Buck, where'd you just go?" JD asked, waving a hand in front of his partner's blank expression, with his brow furrowed as though he suddenly found reason to doubt Buck's mental state, given how he had gone silent, when he was always more apt for endless conversation instead, "You good?"</p><p>"Yeah. Yeah, JD I'm good. Just thinkin's all."</p><p>"Well there's a first."</p><p>"I don't remember askin' for your back-sass, kid," Buck retorted, the words hardly carrying any venom, when he had to work diligently to mask a twitch of a smile, in the hopes that JD would at least try to take him seriously just this once, as compared to the hundreds of other times the two of them had allowed themselves to get carried away with their jokes and laughter, "You want an answer to your question, or not?"</p><p>"An answer would be nice, yeah."</p><p>"This day of the year's always been tough on Chris. Always will be, too."</p><p>"Why's that?"</p><p>"Not really sure if I'm the one that should be tellin' ya."</p><p>"Well why not?" JD pressed, leaning against the passenger side door to lob the empty styrofoam cup into a nearby wastebasket, and grinning faintly when his aim proved true before his attention was shifting back to his partner in hopes that he might be able to eventually persuade him to respond in a more effective way, "Come on, Buck, you've gotta give me something."</p><p>"Actually, I don't," Buck denied, "Not when it means I'm tellin' ya business that don't concern me."</p><p>"Then why even tell me any part of it at all?"</p><p>"Because I trust ya, kid, that's why. And I know you're only askin' outta concern."</p><p>"Do I need to be? Concerned, I mean," JD asked, frowning in the wake of the exasperated sigh Buck gave him in response to the inquiry, and yet refusing to relent, regardless, "What if he's distracted when it really counts?"</p><p>"He won't be."</p><p>"You know that for sure?"</p><p>"I'm gonna pretend you didn't just ask me that," Buck quipped, leaning his head back and once again running a hand across his face before tilting his head to the side to look at JD head-on, "Chris is not the guy to worry about when it comes to the ability to keep your head in the game."</p><p>"I-Buck, I wasn't-I wasn't saying-"</p><p>"I know ya weren't. Listen, JD, the bottom line is we can trust Chris to have our backs. And he needs to know we have his, too."</p><p>"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"</p><p>"It's not an accusation, kid. Just statin' the facts."</p><p>"Well, ya could've stated 'em a little better," JD groused, slumping back in the passenger seat, and exhaling in a rush as he fought against the frustration over even the remotest possibility of any one of his teammates feeling that he would not give them every last ounce of support he had, should they have a need for it. He had never meant to make it sound as though he didn't trust Chris, especially when the man had fought so hard to get him a spot on the team in the first place. But, as always, his enthusiasm and excitability got in the way of his ability to word things how he truly wanted to, another sigh escaping as he glanced back towards Buck, and noted that his partner was watching an elderly woman and what appeared to be her grandson moving into the diner across the street with great interest before he broke the silence between them once again.</p><p>"Do you think he-does he have anyone to talk to? About-about today, I mean?"</p><p>"Well yeah, there's his little sister."</p><p>"Wait. Chris has a sister?"</p><p>"He does," Buck confirmed, chuckling a bit at the wide-eyed astonishment that was so apparent on his younger companion's features, and shaking his head as he made to head the young man off before he could venture down a path he would later regret, "Don't even go there, kid. Sam is far too much woman for the likes of you."</p><p>"Wow. Wasn't even goin' there, Buck."</p><p>"Ya didn't have to, JD. I could see it in your eyes."</p><p>"Great. So now you're reading thoughts through peoples' eyes," JD groaned, rolling his eyes in the wake of Buck's outburst of amused laughter, and shaking his head in open exasperation before going on, "What's next? Predicting someone's mood by how they smell in the morning?"</p><p>"That's a good one. But no. I'm not there, yet."</p><p>"Could've fooled me."</p><p>"That's my job, ain't it? Keepin' ya on your toes?" Buck shrugged, reaching across the console to clap JD on the shoulder, and chuckling once again as the younger man almost immediately retaliated with a swipe at his head that knocked his hat into his lap as a result, "S'what partners are for."</p><p>"I thought partners were supposed to watch your back in a fight."</p><p>"That too. But mostly it's for keepin' ya on your toes."</p><p>"Right. Well, I'm on my toes, right now. Think ya might ease up a bit?"</p><p>"Not likely, kid. Not as far as Little Larabee is concerned."</p><p>"Little Larabee," JD repeated, lifting a brow in obvious skepticism over the nickname, and finding that he was only greeted with an affirmative shake of the head in response, "Does she happen to know about this pet name?"</p><p>"She does. She accepts it for the most part, because she adores me."</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>"Of course, kid. Chris an' I practically raised that girl from the time she could walk," Buck supplied, tapping the side of his head with an almost conspiratorial grin before sending JD a wink, and going on, "Taught her everything we know."</p><p>"That's-terrifying."</p><p>"Glad to hear ya feel that way. Should keep ya safe."</p><p>"Right. Because one woman is more dangerous than what we do every day on the job."</p><p>"You'd be surprised."</p><p>"Well seeing as I'll probably never meet her," JD trailed off, shifting just a bit in the passenger seat before glancing back at Buck, and lifting a brow as he realized Buck's expression seemed to indicate the precise opposite of what he had supposed, "I will meet her?"</p><p>"We'll see, kid. We'll see," Buck replied, reaching over to nudge JD in the shoulder, before turning his focus back towards the diner across the street, and gesturing with the same hand towards the man who had just jogged up to the establishment's doors with both hands jammed tightly inside his jacket pockets, "That our guy?"</p><p>"Yep. Want me to go inside? Get a better look?"</p><p>"Sounds like a plan."</p><p>All joking aside, both men knew if they did not manage to find out what the man in question was up to, they would be far worse off than either of them truly wished to admit.</p><p>…</p><p>Frowning as she stepped off of the elevator and noted that the office where she had hoped to find her brother and his coworkers was completely empty, Sam stepped through the open doorway anyway, her eyes casting around the room for a moment, before lighting upon the closed off partition at the opposite end of the room. Some of the blinds over the windows were half-drawn, and others were completely opened, such that she could see bits and pieces of the interior. And although she knew that she might be far better served simply calling her brother, and determining some sort of plan to meet up once he was free, Sam resisted, piqued curiosity prompting her to cross the room, instead, so that she could move into the room in question, a soft laugh of resignation escaping as she took in the almost predictable lack of decor in the room as a whole.</p><p>Leave it to Chris to trend towards minimalism whenever he could…</p><p>After taking care to close the door behind her, Sam began to move around the room in earnest, her fingers straying across the wood of the desk as she approached, while she took in everything she could about the room in general. Besides the laptop closed on top of the desk, and the glass holding a pen or two, her brother didn't appear to have any other concession to ornament. Not even a photo, or an award. And although Sam understood the lack of much in the way of personal mementos, having never really subscribed to the idea herself, a part of her still felt a strange sensation of something not all that far from sadness at the thought that even now, her brother had never quite perfected the beginnings of what many a mental health professional might coin moving on.</p><p>She supposed, in a way, some of that might have to do with her.</p><p>Shaking her head to rid herself of the thought, whether or not she knew it to be true, Sam maneuvered around the desk and took a seat in the surprisingly comfortable leather chair, her feet kicking up on the rungs so that she could succumb to the admittedly childish desire to spin in a circle not long thereafter. She could only imagine what her brother's reaction would be, if he chose to walk into the office at that precise moment, to find her acting as though she were still the same little girl whose pigtails he used to tug at every time he walked past. In truth, a small part of her almost wanted to be that little girl again, before they had ever lost Sarah and Adam. Before she had made the last moment decision to step away to get some air because of her own inability to deal with her personal drama, and came back to nothing but ash.</p><p>As overly dramatic as it may sound to anyone else, if Sam could have gone back and given her own life to change what had happened that night, she would do so in a heartbeat, no questions asked.</p><p>Knowing she could do nothing about that now, however, Sam was forced to lift both hands to run across her face, hoping that the act would serve as an effective tool to dismiss the stinging that had renewed its presence in the corners of her eyes. She had thought she was past this. That her visit to the cemetery earlier that day would have given her ample time to rid herself of anything that might render her time in Denver any more painful than it had to be. But apparently she had been wrong in that regard, and it was not long before she was leaning forward to place her elbows upon her brother's desk, the heels of her hands digging into her eyes just as the sound of hushed voices coming from the bullpen outside reached her ears.</p><p>It seemed it was now or never, and how well she put herself together in the split second she had before her presence was noticed would make all the difference in the world.</p><p>…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Knowing she would not have long before she was discovered, Sam forced herself to stand from the chair behind her brother's desk, her hands smoothing the fabric of her shirt almost on instinct as she stepped around the desk, and headed for the door. For a moment or two, she struggled with the uneasy sensation of being an intruder on something she was not entirely meant to see, particularly in light of the sudden laughter that reached her ears while a hand stretched out to fully open the door. Hesitation stalled her movements for only a moment, her eyes slipping closed as she took a breath in hopes that it would steel her nerves, and keep any inkling of the exact nature of her current mood away from her features entirely.</p><p>She could only imagine the impact her abrupt appearance might have on Chris' demeanor, and adding in her own turmoil would only be likely to make things worse.</p><p>Exhaling in a rush, and squaring her shoulders, Sam tugged the door open completely, and shifted until she was leaning against the frame, her brow arched in open curiosity as a moment or two passed without anyone taking immediate notice of her appearance. Almost immediately, her attention had drifted towards where Chris stood, leaning against Buck's desk, his back to her while the other man she had known for as long as she could remember said something with that trademark easy grin curling at the corners of his mouth. Dimly, she remained aware of the other men in the room, particularly the youngest, who had circled around to what must have been his own desk, only to freeze in place as soon as he noticed her presence. But before either one of them could say or do anything to remedy the situation, Sam found herself flinching in the wake of a familiar loud greeting, her attention snapping back towards Buck as he shouldered his way past Chris and moved to sweep her into a bone-crushing embrace before she could even think to step aside.</p><p>"Sammie! What the hell are you doing here?"</p><p>"What does it look like?" The young woman managed, clinging to Buck's shoulders as he proceeded to spin her in a small circle, seemingly oblivious to how her feet had subsequently lifted off of the floor, "Besides being squeezed to death, I mean."</p><p>"You know you love me."</p><p>"Do I, though?"</p><p>"Hell yes," Buck affirmed, finally allowing Sam to place both feet firmly on the ground, though he did not fully relinquish his hold on her in the process, "What the hell've ya been doin' all this time?"</p><p>"You probably don't want to know."</p><p>"Aw, c'mon, that tells me I definitely want to know!"</p><p>"You're gonna have to work for it, Buck," Sam quipped, instinct prompting her to fall back on the habitual banter that typically arose between them in hopes that it would allow her to remain capable of behaving as though this were a simple visit and nothing more, "You know I don't give that intel away for free."</p><p>"I wouldn't have it any other way."</p><p>"I know. That's why I said it."</p><p>"Name your price," Buck replied, a suggestive waggle of the eyebrows provoking a smile whether Sam was truly prepared for it or not, though despite the fact that Buck appeared oblivious to the growing curiosity of those gathered around them, she, herself, was not. She could feel their eyes on her-on them both-though she kept her own fixed rather resolutely upon her brother's old friend as though he were the only other person in the room. But before she could successfully come up with a retort of her own that would keep the momentum going, Sam found herself distracted by Chris choosing to straighten and place a hand on Buck's shoulder to move him to the side, an almost exasperated expression crossing his features before he spoke.</p><p>"Really? Every time?"</p><p>"He started it," Sam quipped, ignoring the feigned innocence that Buck allowed into his expression in favor of keeping her attention upon her brother, instead. As she might have predicted, he seemed to have already discerned the precise reason for her impromptu visit, the slightest deepening of the lines around his eyes and mouth almost prompting a frown to her own lips, though she fought the instinct with all that she had. But whatever stubborn determination had brought her here seemed to choose that moment to resurface in full, her posture straightening just a bit as she lifted her chin, and met Chris' seemingly implacable gaze with a look that all but dared him to object to her arrival at all, "Is this a bad time?"</p><p>"Would it really stop you if it was?"</p><p>Recognizing the remark for what it was, Sam was startled at how quickly her apprehension over Chris' reaction to her arrival seemed to disappear almost entirely, her lips curving up into a smile as she stepped forward before she could think better of it, and wound an arm about her brother's waist. Whether he was truly comfortable with the display or not, he soon returned the gesture in kind, Sam's cheek squishing against the worn leather of his jacket while she took a moment to simply savor the reality of his presence at her side. In contrast to Buck's predictably rowdy greeting, there was a different sort of comfort to this one-armed embrace. A warmth and steadiness that neither of them would have admitted to aloud, but was still there, either way. And although a part of her might have honestly preferred to remain as she was, completely ignorant of the other men in the room with them, Sam knew such a thing would not last forever, her frame shying away from her brother's as she removed her arm from around his waist, and lifted her hand to tuck a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear, while an as yet unfamiliar voice broke the silence at the same time.</p><p>"You plannin' on tellin' us who your friend is, Chris, or were you gonna keep her all to yourself?"</p><p>"What, they don't already know?" Sam questioned, turning towards her brother, and giving him her best attempt at a pout before persisting in her teasing, whether it earned her a vaguely unamused glance in response or not, "I can't be that embarrassing, can I?"</p><p>"Nah, Chris is just protective. 'Specially when it comes to you," Buck cut in, stepping forward to snake an arm around Sam's shoulders so that he could pull her against his side before she could even say a word in protest. Sam found herself stifling a soft laugh as she felt his mustache tickling against the skin of her temple where he had just placed an exaggerated kiss, whether to prolong everyone else's curiosity or simply to bother her brother, she could not exactly tell. But just as she had been about to break the silence herself, if for no other reason than to spare everyone the undue agony of waiting any longer, Buck took the liberty of doing so himself, his grin rivaling the cheshire cat's as he squeezed her even closer to his side, and made the introductions that were required.</p><p>"Fellas, this lovely little spitfire here is Chris' little sister. Sammie."</p><p>"Just Sam, actually-"</p><p>"Shh. Ole Buck is makin' introductions here," Buck chastised, chuckling in amusement over his own act, and turning back to the other men standing nearby to look at each of them and introduce them in turn, "I've already told ya about Josiah, of course. Then there's Vin-Nathan-and that young whippersnapper that's been eyeballin' ya ever since I pulled ya over is our newbie. JD."</p><p>"Pleasure," Sam acknowledged, trying to commit the names and faces to memory, though, with as quickly as Buck had rattled them off, she was finding the task a bit more difficult than she would have liked. Doing what she could to keep that realization from making itself apparent in her expression, however, she chose instead to turn back towards Chris, instead, her expression only curious as she regarded him for a moment as though in silent contemplation, before asking the question that had garnered her attention almost as soon as Buck had finished speaking, himself, "Wait-I thought there were seven of you."</p><p>"There are. I tell ya, Chris, this one doesn't miss a thing. We trained her well."</p><p>In lieu of any sort of remark that could confirm Buck's assertion or deny it, Sam was not surprised to find that Chris had opted for going another route entirely, his attention straying to Buck's arm where it was still looped casually over her shoulders, for a moment, before deciding to respond to her initial inquiry as though his old friend had not even spoken at all.</p><p>"There are. Ezra's in the middle of somethin' else."</p><p>"Ezra?"</p><p>"Yeah, he's our undercover guy," Buck supplied, shifting his arm a bit around Sam's shoulders, and sending her an almost conspiratorial grin before going on, "You'll meet him tonight."</p><p>"Tonight?"</p><p>"Well yeah. Ya didn't really think ya could just breeze in an' get out of a dinner with me, Chris, an' the rest of the guys, did ya?"</p><p>"Oh, I don't think that would be a good idea," Sam protested, her thoughts lingering on the familiarity of the name Buck had provided for their absentee teammate, before she allowed her gaze to drift back towards Chris, instead, "I'm um-I'm pretty tired."</p><p>"JD, go get the lady a coffee. Pronto."</p><p>"Seriously?"</p><p>"You bet," Buck confirmed, finally dropping his arm back to his side, and looking towards Chris as though hoping for back-up while the youngest of the gathered men hurried off to a separate room to procure the aforementioned source of caffeine, "Cry all ya want, Sammie, you're goin' out with us whether ya like it or not."</p><p>"And you aren't going to help me at all?" Sam inquired, lifting a brow as she regarded her brother's slightly upturned half-smile, and frowning in exasperation as soon as she realized he had begun shaking his head in response to her words.</p><p>"Don't think I can, Sam. You know what Buck's like when he gets somethin' like this into his head."</p><p>"Gee. Thanks for the help."</p><p>"Aw c'mon, it'll be fun," Buck persisted, fixing Sam with another signature broad smile, and continuing to watch her as JD returned with the coffee and she took the styrofoam cup eagerly enough, whether she had initially wanted to accept it or not, "Besides, ya know if you're there, it'll mean Chris'll have to come."</p><p>"Why's that?"</p><p>"To make sure I don't finally win Sammie over, an' corrupt her completely, JD, why else?"</p><p>Seemingly content to ignore the almost immediate roll of the eyes that Sam had given in response to his supposition, Buck took the liberty of clapping the young man on the shoulder, and guiding him back towards his own desk, likely so that they could grab their coats, the other men sparing the newcomer a smile and nod of acknowledgment themselves, before heading off to do the same. Left in the silence, with Chris standing at her side, Sam risked another glance his way, her eyes searching his expression for even the remotest hint that she ought to come up with a way out of this for the two of them. But, almost as she had anticipated, he gave her absolutely nothing, the slight sting of disappointment she felt over that very fact causing her to frown for a moment, before changing course, and resettling her own features into a neutral mask that might even have rivaled his own.</p><p>"Shall we, then?"</p><p>As she registered the muted shout Buck gave to request that JD text Ezra to let him know where they would be to meet up later, she could almost have missed the imperceptible nod that signified Chris had agreed with her assessment, whether he wished to or not.</p><p>Old wounds, it seemed, would simply have to wait.</p><p>…</p><p>They had spent the majority of the trip from the field office, to the familiar little bar Sam could recall celebrating her twenty-first birthday in years before in silence, the soft humming of whatever music was playing on the radio creating an almost protective barrier between Sam's presence, and the reality of the reasoning behind it. If she ignored the facts entirely, she could almost pretend that this was simply any other day, with Chris driving her to a friend's house after school, or sensing she needed a break from her homework, and practically peeling her away from her desk in their parent's old home to go for a bite to eat. Somehow, in the wake of Buck's self-congratulatory musings about the success of his plan as they had all headed from the relative sanctuary of the field office, and to their individual vehicles, it had been determined that she would leave her truck there, and head to the bar with her brother, instead. And now that they were nearing their destination, Sam found herself risking a glance at the man who seemed so at ease with simply remaining silent for the duration of their journey, her mouth opening to say something to intrude into the quiet between them, only to clamp shut as soon as she realized Chris had glanced away from the road to look her way at almost exactly the same time.</p><p>"You don't have to do this. I can always tell Buck-"</p><p>"No. No, I think I need to," Sam cut in, squirming beneath the obstruction provided by the seat belt resting across her chest, and leaning her head against the back of the passenger seat while her brother turned his eyes forward again to navigate the turn into the bar's graveled parking lot behind Buck and JD, "Might seem kinda suspicious to back out now."</p><p>"Never really cared much about that, myself."</p><p>"I know you didn't. Which is why I need to. Someone's gotta keep you on the up and up."</p><p>The soft snort of something not all that far from laughter that Chris allowed to break free in response to Sam's statement had her smiling in turn, her gaze turning downward as she picked at a loose thread on her jeans while he saw to the task of selecting a parking spot beside the one Buck had already chosen, and threw the truck in park not long thereafter. And before she knew it, Sam found herself unbuckling and popping the passenger side door open to hop down from the cab, her heeled boots creating little puffs of dust as they connected with the gravel and dirt beneath, and she shut the door behind her with a muted thud.</p><p>She could do this. It was just a few drinks, maybe something to eat.</p><p>She would do this.</p><p>Steeled by the thought, at least for the moment, Sam circled around the front of her brother's truck and found herself once again tugged snugly against Buck's side, an exasperated huff escaping her as she peered up at him, and squinted almost immediately against the rays of the sun beaming above his head. She could hear his laughter in response, and allowed herself the luxury of a small smile of her own. But before she could settle into some semblance of familiarity, in the midst of the renewed conversation she could hear striking up around her as the other men got out of their own vehicles and began to head indoors as well, Sam found herself distracted by the scuffing of booted feet coming from somewhere off to her left, her gaze snapping in that direction just as JD jogged up to join her.</p><p>"So. You're Chris' sister."</p><p>"Guilty as charged."</p><p>"And Buck says-he says ya know him, too?"</p><p>"Whether I really want to or not," Sam shrugged, ignoring Buck's sudden cry of protest in favor of slipping out from underneath his arm, and reaching up to tug a hand through slightly wind-tousled hair before elaborating as much as she dared, "I guess I'm kinda stuck with him."</p><p>"I know the feelin'."</p><p>"Watch it, kid. I could always kick ya out on the street."</p><p>"You two live together?"</p><p>"Oh, yeah. Yeah, Buck an' I've been in the same apartment for about a year, now," JD informed, sticking his hands inside his jacket pockets as he risked stepping just a bit closer to the newcomer, and noted what he thought was a hint of cinnamon as a slight breeze ruffled her hair while she spoke.</p><p>"Wow. I'm so sorry, JD."</p><p>"Sorry? Sorry for-for what?"</p><p>"For you having to put up with Buck for so long," Sam clarified, one corner of her mouth turning up in a faint smirk, though that evidence of her amusement was rather short-lived as Buck circled around her, and stooped to pick her up such that she ended up bent at the waist, slung over his shoulder with a cry of alarm, "Hey! What the hell?"</p><p>"If ya can't do the time, don't do the crime," Buck chuckled, a playful swat to Sam's rear evoking the yelp he had hoped for as he jogged away from JD, and towards the half-opened door of the bar, instead, "You should know that by now, Sammie."</p><p>"Are any of you planning on-helping?" Sam asked amid gales of open laughter, her body sagging in sudden resignation as she realized one of the men-the older one she thought had been introduced as Josiah-spoke up to answer before any of the others could, themselves.</p><p>"Sorry, ma'am. I reckon we all know better than to get in Buck's way in moments like this."</p><p>"Thanks for that."</p><p>"Any time."</p><p>Unable to fully suppress the soft laughter that started her shoulders to quivering slightly as Buck carried her through the bar door, Sam did as best she could to avoid squirming, in hopes it would help her to avoid being accidentally dropped on her head. With her gaze trained on the ground, she could discern her brother's familiar dark boots, followed closely by several other pairs she knew would belong to the men moving along after him. And although she could not see the woman who called out to Buck as he stepped just a fraction of an inch closer, Sam found herself suddenly appreciative for the slight skepticism in that woman's tone as she clearly took note of her own presence and questioned Buck accordingly.</p><p>"What on earth are you doing to that poor girl?"</p><p>"Just given' her a taste of her own medicine," Buck said, the smile he wore apparent in his tone, while he delivered another pat to Sam's bottom that almost had her forgoing the desire to avoid squirming in protest, "Our usual spot open, darlin'?"</p><p>"Only if you put her down."</p><p>"Aw c'mon, Inez, a man's gotta have a little fun."</p><p>"Not at someone else's expense, Senor. Put her down, please."</p><p>"Oh alright," Buck groused, tipping Sam back over, and keeping his hands at her waist to hold her steady until she found her feet once more, only to holler over her shoulder not long thereafter, "You're a real spoil-sport, ya know that? Ya owe me one."</p><p>"Why don't I see about not spilling your drink in your lap this time, and we call it even."</p><p>"Sounds good to me."</p><p>As she watched the woman throw a surprisingly warm smile her way over one shoulder as she headed off to tend to the needs of another patron, Sam managed a slight wave in response, her eyes travelling back towards Buck, while she simultaneously became aware of Chris' presence on her other side. For a moment, she almost opted against teasing her brother's friend-a man who had been like a second brother for herself-as she watched him staring after the dark-haired woman with a lopsided grin curling at one corner of his mouth. But as soon as that startling thought had crossed her mind, Sam was casting it aside, the almost childish need to pay him back for throwing her over his shoulder like he had so many times when she was still a little girl, her arms folding across her chest as she narrowed her eyes ever so slightly before she spoke.</p><p>"You like her, don't you."</p><p>"Don't know what you're talkin' about."</p><p>"Oh, but I think you do," Sam pressed, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips as she leaned just a bit closer to Buck, despite knowing he was still watching the other woman as though she had not moved at all, "And you know what else I think?"</p><p>"What's that?"</p><p>"I think if you want her to actually give you a chance, maybe you shouldn't keep feelin' up other girls."</p><p>Before Buck could say anything to protest, Sam was pulling away from him and grinning ear to ear, his wallet dangling between her fingertips after having gained the capability of reaching behind him while he was otherwise distracted, and withdrawing it from his pocket without him ever noticing a thing. For a moment or two, Buck simply seemed dazed, his eyes zeroing in on Sam in abject disbelief, while she walked backward in the direction of what appeared to be the only table big enough for all of them to fit around comfortably, her attention turning toward the rest of the men behind Buck as she spoke, secretly pleased by the fact that her ensuing remark had succeeded in pulling the faintest of smiles from her brother, even in the face of his habitual penchant for remaining impassive.</p><p>"Anyone up for a round of drinks? Buck's buyin'..."</p><p>Since he had dragged her into this to start with, it seemed only fair that he pay up.</p><p>…</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Surprisingly enough, Sam found it remarkably simple to allow herself to settle into the unspoken camaraderie of her brother's companions, her uncertainty fading away bit by bit as she sat between Chris and Buck, and joined with the latter, on occasion, in his seeming penchant for tormenting the youngest member of their group. She would have been a liar to pretend she had forgotten that uncertainty altogether, of course, particularly as she knew full-well that once the majority of the group she sat with decided to call it a night, she would have to face reality once again. But, even with that knowledge, Sam could not entirely resist the pull to simply forget all of that for the time-being and simply focusing upon the moment at hand, a faint smile tugging at her lips as her momentary reverie was broken by the sound of Buck's voice addressing her in time with a gentle nudge at her ribs.</p><p>"You daydreamin' on me, now?"</p><p>"Not at all."</p><p>"You sure about that?"</p><p>"Would I lie to you, Buck?" Sam inquired, her fingertips tracing the rim of her glass as she turned to regard the man seated on her immediate right with a mildly amused smile and waited for his entirely too predictable reply.</p><p>"Yeah. Probably. If the timing was right."</p><p>"Well, this time, the timing's not right. And I'm not lying."</p><p>"Really."</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Cause I'd hate to have to bring your brother in on this," Buck persisted, aware of the slight narrowing of Sam's green eyes, and yet not backing down, regardless, as he cast a glance towards Chris, who seemed to be currently enthralled in a conversation with Vin that could not be heard above the sound of other conversations taking place in the room around them, "Or did you think I'd miss how you were lookin' at him like you were tryin' like hell to hide somethin' back at the office?"</p><p>"I'm not-Buck, that's not what that was."</p><p>"Bull."</p><p>"It's not," Sam pressed, pausing for just long enough to throw back the remainder of her drink, and only then forcing herself to look Buck directly in the eye, "You know how he is about last minute changes in plans."</p><p>"And I also know how he is about today. That's part of the reason we're here in the first place."</p><p>"To forget?"</p><p>"Nah, Sammie. To remember," Buck explained, reaching forward to place a hand on top of Sam's forearm, only to find that she was pursing her lips, and pulling her arm away quickly, as though she had just been burned, "It's a good thing. You'll see."</p><p>"Somehow, I kind of doubt that."</p><p>"Kind of doubt what?"</p><p>Snapping her gaze towards JD as she realized he had been the one to break into their conversation, Sam spent a moment trying to decide how best to answer, knowing that the renewed sense of turmoil she felt was in no way his fault. She was well aware that he was only trying to be friendly. To make sure he was included in the conversation with a team that he clearly valued more than he could figure out how to put into words. And more so in an effort to ensure that any lengthy pause between his inquiry and her own reply would not garner the attention of anyone else at the table than anything else, Sam cleared her throat and forced herself to reply, even in spite of the fact that it was perhaps the very last thing that she wanted to do.</p><p>"I kind of doubt we can make it through another minute without more drinks," Sam supplied, pushing her chair back, and rather determinedly avoiding a direct look at her brother, though she did not miss how he turned from his conversation with Vin to look her way, instead, "I'll be right back."</p><p>Before any of the men gathered around the table could stop her, Sam was heading towards the bar, her jaw working convulsively as she struggled to ignore the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes. And although some small part of her knew there was still some risk of one of them coming after her, Sam forced herself forward, a sharp inhalation serving as all the room she needed before she reached the bar, and managed what she hoped was a passable smile for the bartender as she spoke.</p><p>"Whiskey. One for me, and a round of beer for the table back in the corner, as well."</p><p>If she was going to be able to return to them at all, she would need something to settle her nerves.</p><p>…...</p><p>"What the hell did ya say to her, Buck?" JD asked, watching as Sam hopped up on one of the seats beside the bar, and turning back towards his roommate and friend just in time to catch his ensuing reply.</p><p>"Nothin', kid. You heard her, she just went to go get us some more drinks."</p><p>"Seemed like she was a bit more upset than someone who was just goin' to get drinks."</p><p>"That's just Sammie, JD. She'll be fine if we just give her a little bit of breathin' room."</p><p>"Kid's not the only one curious about what ya said, Buck," Chris cut in, aware of how his friend's expression had frozen, even if only for a moment, and recognizing the familiar flash of guilt that passed over Buck's features before he managed to coerce them into his former expression of attempted innocence, "She okay?"</p><p>"Think so. Just a bit caught up in things, is all."</p><p>"Caught up in what?"</p><p>"We already know, son," Josiah informed, leveling what he hoped would be a cautionary glance towards JD, just as he caught the slight tick of a muscle moving against Chris' jawline, "Just leave it at that."</p><p>"What do you-oh. Crap. Chris, I-I'm sorry-" JD stammered, eyes blown wide as he looked from Buck, to their team leader, who was now downing the remainder of his own whiskey as though his very life depended upon it, "I wasn't-I didn't think."</p><p>"You're alright, kid. Just let it be," Buck advised, watching Chris' reaction as carefully as he could, and noting that his friend had seemed content to turn his attention towards Sam's position with their back towards them at the bar, rather than opting for giving JD any sort of reply on his own, "Why don't you tell Vin about what ya were tellin' me on the way over."</p><p>"Yeah. Yeah, I could do that."</p><p>As JD began to grow more animated the longer he spent discussing his self-proclaimed brilliant idea for their team to go up against a few of the others at the field office in a game or two of baseball, Buck allowed himself to glance back towards Chris once again, his lips pursing into a frown as he realized the man did not appear at all interested in involving himself in the conversation at hand. He understood why, of course, knowing full well exactly what this day had already cost not only Chris, but Sam as well. But even as much as he felt for the both of them, he could not entirely persuade himself to believe that his decision to drag them out to begin with had been a bad one.</p><p>Whether either one of them would ever admit it or not, they needed the connection provided by the team that was gathered around them…</p><p>Perhaps the only problem with that theory would be getting them to accept it, when both were clearly so accustomed to coping alone that they would not be likely to reach out for help without being nudged in the right direction, first.</p><p>…</p><p>Seated at the bar still, despite knowing that the longer she remained away from her brother and his companions, the more suspicion she would earn, Sam watched as the drinks she had secured for the men she had come to the bar with made their way towards the table in the clearly capable hands of the woman Buck had attempted to flirt with as soon as they arrived. The woman had given her another smile as she passed behind the bar, though Sam had not been entirely capable of returning one of her own at the time. And although she would have been a liar to pretend she was not at least slightly curious over the prospect of a woman that did not seem susceptible to the charms of one Buck Wilmington, Sam was not able to completely ignore her sudden melancholy in favor of a deeper consideration of that very fact, a sigh escaping as she reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, while the other hand lifted another refilled glass to her lips in the same motion.</p><p>Apparently that was all it took to encourage two men to flank her on either side, her body freezing in place while some of the whiskey slid down the back of her throat, and she kept her gaze forward while the man to her right addressed her as though he had known her for years.</p><p>"Lookin' pretty lonely, darlin'. Want some company?"</p><p>"I'm fine."</p><p>"Well yeah, we know," The man's companion proclaimed, the wink he offered causing Sam's brow to lift in obvious incredulity, though she never had the opportunity to nip his apparent enthusiasm in the bud before he was leaning towards her with an almost conspiratorial grin, "But you don't look like you're havin' a good time over here all by yourself."</p><p>"Believe me, I'm perfectly capable of entertaining myself."</p><p>"But it's so much more fun to do the entertainin' with friends."</p><p>"And you two think you're my friends," Sam mused, shifting to lean back on the stool she occupied in order to give herself a better view of both men in the periphery of her vision, and hoping that she could handle whatever it was these two appeared to have in mind without warranting the intervention of her brother, or any one of his other companions. She knew without a doubt that at least Chris and Buck would likely feel compelled to step in, if things went on for too long. And half in an effort to avoid causing a scene, Sam forced herself to manage a smile, no matter the veiled threat that rested beneath it…</p><p>Not that either of the two half-intoxicated imbeciles on either side of her could recognize that, even if it smacked them in the face.</p><p>"We can be more than friends, if ya want."</p><p>"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"</p><p>"Well hell yes!" The man on Sam's right exclaimed, chuckling as he leaned over to mirror his companion on her other side, "You look like a girl who knows how to have a good time."</p><p>"Maybe I do."</p><p>"Hear that, Will? Our girl knows how to have a good time."</p><p>"Never said I'd be willing to try with you two, though," Sam clarified, her tone almost saccharine in spite of the exasperation lingering just beneath the surface of her lie. An exasperation that only grew as soon as she caught the look that passed between the two men on either side of her, before the one on her left-Will, apparently-spoke up and diverted her attention once again.</p><p>"Why don't ya give us a shot, sugar? We might surprise ya."</p><p>"That's true. You might. But I really think I'm fine right here."</p><p>Though she truly ought to have predicted her continued refusal would prompt such a thing, what Sam could not have anticipated was the knee-jerk reaction that the sensation of Will's hand sliding up the inside of her thigh would provoke…</p><p>Before she could think twice, somehow, she had hopped down to the ground, the fingers of one hand curling into a fist to connect with Will's jaw, while the other latched onto his wrist to yank it around until it rested near the center of his back and forced him to collide with a grunt against the edge of the bar.</p><p>…</p><p>"Well, gentlemen-so good to see you started the festivities without me."</p><p>"Figured you wouldn't mind, seein' as we saved ya some of the grub, anyway," Vin shrugged, nudging one of the plastic baskets containing what remained of their appetizers Ezra's way, and laughing almost immediately in response to the other man's skeptically raised brow as he took the empty seat opposite Josiah, and nudged the basket back without taking a bite.</p><p>"I think I'll pass on the Salmonella special tonight, Mr. Tanner."</p><p>"Suit yourself."</p><p>"The onion rings are really good, Ezra," JD assured, leaning halfway across the table to pluck one from the basket for himself, only to frown as Ezra gave an almost immediate negative in response.</p><p>"I'll take your word for it, son. I'm just fine."</p><p>"Well will ya at least have a beer? I'm sure Sam'll grab ya one."</p><p>"Sam?"</p><p>"Oh. Yeah. Chris' little sister," JD informed, talking around the onion ring, and downing the last of his existing beer to wash it down before going on, "She's over at the bar."</p><p>"I assume you all sent her there to procure more libations."</p><p>"Nah. She went to go get 'em herself. A while ago, actually."</p><p>"And none of you fine gentlemen saw fit to determine if she required assistance?"</p><p>"Clearly you missed the part where JD told you she was Chris' sister," Vin quipped, reaching forward to snag the last onion ring from the basket before JD could do so himself, and risking a glance towards the aforementioned sibling that still remained at the table, only to follow Chris' gaze towards the bar in time to see Sam sandwiched between two significantly larger men that appeared to be trying to hold her attention with all they had, "Course, because of that, maybe we should be more worried about those two fellas tryin' to pick her up than we are 'bout her gettin' drinks."</p><p>"Think we should go help her out?" JD inquired, glancing towards the bar in time to see the almost brittle smile Sam wore, and wincing as he realized her two would-be companions appeared to miss the signs that it was far from genuine in their entirety, "Chris?"</p><p>"She's fine, JD. Just watch," Buck instructed, aware of JD's incredulous expression, and the way in which Chris had tensed beside him, his fingers curled around the glass of beer he held so tightly his knuckles had gone white, "Sammie can handle herself."</p><p>"You sure?"</p><p>"Look again, kid."</p><p>Turning around to follow his friend's instructions, JD watched in open-mouthed amazement as Sam moved down from the chair she sat upon, and effectively pinned one of the men who seemed so determined to assail her against the bar with his hand behind his back, the look she sent the man's companion enough to have him taking a step or two back with hands held up in surrender, despite the fact that JD could not register what was said in response.</p><p>"See? Told ya she could handle her own."</p><p>Whether he would have initially believed it or not, it would seem that Buck had been correct after all, even if, by the way in which Chris had stood from his own chair and began to head towards the bar not long thereafter, he did not appear to feel the same way.</p><p>…</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Okay, lady, ease up!" The man Sam had pinned to the bar pleaded, squirming a bit against the hold she had on his arm, and emitting a low groan when the act only strained the appendage further than it already had been, "I'm sorry, alright? Is that what you wanna hear?"</p><p>"Close," Sam murmured, poignantly aware of the position of the man's friend where he still stood beside them, her muscles taut as she tried to prepare for any sort of attack he might attempt to free his companion from her grasp. None appeared immediately forthcoming, though that realization did not truly succeed in putting her at ease. And perhaps half in response to the lingering feeling that retaliation might be imminent, Sam tightened her hold on Will's wrist, a sharp tug eliciting another groan before she spoke once more, "Are you done tryin' to push up on me? Or do I need to think of another way to teach you about consent?"</p><p>"There a problem here?"</p><p>Sam tensed almost immediately in response to the familiarity of her brother's voice, and the ease with which she realized that, though the inquiry seemed casual on the surface, there was a very real threat hidden beneath, as well. The other man-Will's friend-seemed to pick up on it, as well, his feet propelling him backwards once again as he glanced between the tall man now standing before him, and the woman still holding his companion against the bar. But Will himself seemed completely oblivious to the implications behind the newcomer's arrival, another jerking motion of his body prompting Sam to tighten her hold upon his wrist while he craned his head around to attempt looking at Chris first-hand.</p><p>"Yeah, there's a problem. Your girlfriend's crazy, mister."</p><p>"She ain't my girlfriend," Chris replied, sending the man Sam was not currently pinning to the bar a look that had him backpedaling almost immediately, before turning his attention back to his companion, and Sam's smaller frame, as well, "Sam?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"Think you can let him go, now."</p><p>Though she did not truly want to, Sam forced herself to release her hold on Will's wrist, and to take a step or two back from his taller frame, her fingers curling into fists at her sides for want of anything else to do. She could still feel the tension possessing each of her muscles, now lacking an outlet after she had let go of her would-be assailant in response to her brother's instruction. And although she wanted to take some measure of comfort in the reality of Chris' steady presence at her side, Sam found herself shying away from the warmth that emanated from her brother's taller frame, her lips thinning into a line as she realized the entire ordeal had garnered the attention of not only the bartender, but the woman Buck had attempted flirting with before, as well.</p><p>Great.</p><p>Hoping with all she had that her actions had not just inadvertently ended Buck's attempt at an evening of distraction before it had truly begun, Sam met the woman's dark eyes, shock dawning on her features as she realized there was no hint of censure in that gaze, no matter how hard she tried to find it. For a moment, the two simply observed each other, a faint smile quirking Inez's mouth upward, while Sam lifted a singular brow in response. But just as Sam had been prepared to attempt an apology for the disturbance she had not really intended to cause, she found her mouth snapping shut once again, her gaze flicking back to the two men who had been so determined to accost her while she realized Chris had taken the liberty of placing a hand at her elbow, likely in an attempt to pull her back to their table before anything else could go awry.</p><p>If only it could have been that simple...</p><p>"Do yourself a favor, and teach that woman of yours to stay in line."</p><p>Aware of how Chris had tensed at her side, and turned back to address Will's reckless comment on his own, Sam beat him to the punch, her knee snapping up to connect with the man's groin far more easily than she could have anticipated, given how he had moved to follow after them as soon as they had prepared to depart. Dimly, she was aware of a soft laugh coming from the direction of the bar, likely from Inez, in response to the entire ordeal. But instead of diverting her gaze to confirm her suspicions, Sam focused almost entirely upon the man who had now landed in a crumpled heap on the floor, her lips twisting into a smile as she leaned forward at the waist to better look him in the eye.</p><p>"He doesn't need to teach me anything."</p><p>"Sam-"</p><p>Turning in response to the unmistakable order conveyed in just her name, alone, Sam fell into step beside her brother as they made their way back to their table, her attention almost completely dedicated to the task of remaining oblivious to the open stares of other patrons gathered nearby. Try though she might to appear at least somewhat subdued, Sam could not help the soft laughter that had welled up, causing her lips to twitch while her shoulders shook in poorly suppressed amusement. And although she knew he would never fully make a show of supporting her actions wholeheartedly, Sam was not blind to the twitch at the corner of Chris' mouth as she risked a glance at him while they walked, and spoke with as straight a face as she could manage.</p><p>"For the record, I had that sorted…"</p><p>Though she had returned to looking straight ahead, Sam would bet her life that the soft snort that came from Chris' location on her left just might mean that he might just forgive her for her little display, after all.</p><p>"I know."</p><p>…</p><p>As they approached the crowd of Chris' teammates once again, Sam almost immediately noticed that another man had arrived while she had been distracted at the bar, his back to her as she approached with her brother at her side. Surmising that this must be the seventh man on the team-Ezra-she was prepared to simply rejoin the others and hardly give his added presence any consideration at all. But of course, as soon as he turned towards them after noting how JD's attention had shifted from whatever it was he had been saying, to their return, all thought of things progressing with some degree of ease was blown straight to hell.</p><p>She had not been wrong, it seemed. There was something familiar about the name Ezra. Something she recalled about the set of his shoulders, as she glanced at him before he had turned around. And if she did not watch her reactions carefully, Sam knew Buck's reason for dragging them here to begin with might just become the least of her problems.</p><p>She had no idea what Chris would do with the knowledge of her rather impromptu connection to the man who was clearly his very own colleague, but Sam highly suspected that it would not be anything good.</p><p>Determined to avoid that outcome if it was at all possible, Sam did as best she could to school her expression into something more befitting of a person greeting a new introduction, her eyes meeting the vivid green of the newcomer's as she watched the same realization she had just experienced register in his mind, as well. A brief, likely imperceptible shake of her head was the only warning she appeared to have time for, before Buck was standing from his own seat, and heading their way with a wide grin stretching across his face. And, as he came to Ezra's side, and clapped him on the shoulder in such a way that the other man only just suppressed a flinch, Sam found herself letting a breath out through her nose, her gaze shifting towards Buck as he glanced between her, and her brother, and dove into the conversation head-first.</p><p>"Good thing ya brought her back, Chris. Looks like she coulda done some real damage."</p><p>"You say that like it's a bad thing," Sam quipped, a smile toying at one corner of her mouth as she cocked her head to the side, and turned her attention back to the man she was all but determined to pretend she did not already know, "Who's your friend?"</p><p>"This is Ezra. The one I told ya about."</p><p>"The undercover guy."</p><p>"The one and only," Buck confirmed, glancing between the man whose shoulders he had just ensnared with one arm, and the woman who stood before him with a smile that was almost contagious before going on, "Ezra, this is Sammie. Chris' little sister."</p><p>"Just-just Sam, actually," The young woman clarified, silently grateful that her voice did not waver, even in spite of the slight flare of nerves she felt as she forced herself to meet Ezra's gaze head-on, "Pleasure to meet you."</p><p>"Likewise," Ezra replied, the faintest flicker of amusement passing over his features as he glanced between Sam and Chris for only a moment, before settling his attention back to the former in its entirety, "Am I to assume you've succeeded in teaching those two mongrels at the bar a lesson?"</p><p>"What do you think?"</p><p>"I would say it was a rousing success. Remind me to never attempt picking you up in a bar, Miss Larabee."</p><p>Though she knew, somehow, that the words were meant as a simple joke, Sam would have been a fool to pretend to miss the almost immediate tension radiating from where Chris stood at her side, her eyes narrowing as she looked back towards Ezra, and gave another minute shake of her head in hopes that it would warn him not to press the issue whether he wanted to or not. For a moment or two, she almost feared that her brother would pick up on the connection between them, small though it was, her heart slamming against her rib cage as she bit into her lower lip and glanced back to Chris in hopes of getting a better idea of what he might do, if he had figured them out. Of course, attempting to read her brother had always been a difficult task, whether or not she recognized the reality of how she knew him better than most. But before she could even attempt to discern his current mood, Sam found herself distracted by the sound of Buck's laughter echoing in her ears, her gaze snapping back towards him as he relinquished his hold on Ezra, and stepped towards her, instead.</p><p>"Come on, Sammie. Seems like ya could use another drink."</p><p>Whether he realized it or not, it appeared Buck had just saved the day…</p><p>…</p><p>"You're sure you don't want me to just go back to the hotel?" Sam inquired, the quick look Chris shot her in response provoking a slight twitch of her lips, regardless of the lingering sensation that she was intruding by allowing him to take her back to his ranch, instead of to the hotel room she had booked for the duration of her stay. It wasn't that she truly felt he would reject her presence. Not really. But knowing him as she did, Sam was very familiar with the exact affinity that her brother had for his own solitude, at times.</p><p>After all, in that way, she was very much like him, herself.</p><p>"Right. Dumb question."</p><p>"Glad you figured that out," Chris commented, throwing the truck in park, and risking another glance towards Sam in time to see her effect a one-shouldered shrug before she spoke.</p><p>"I aim to please."</p><p>"Should probably keep tryin'."</p><p>"Really? Because I thought I was doing rather well, all things considered," Sam quipped, sending her brother a wink before turning her attention to the task of hopping down from the passenger side of the truck, and taking in the familiarity of the ranch her brother had moved to not long after losing Sarah and Adam. Though she had never said such a thing out loud, she understood why he had chosen a place like this. Remote. Away from prying eyes, and certainly enough to take one's mind off of whatever plagued it, more times than not. A part of her hated that Chris had felt the need to retreat in such a way, though she never could have blamed him for it, no matter how hard she tried. But another part almost envied him for the ease with which he could simply withdraw from the world any time he wanted to…</p><p>The way she had made her living thus far hadn't allowed for many luxuries, now that she thought of it, and although Sam never would have regretted the relative lack of constraint her job held, when she knew she never would have had what it took to maintain employment that kept to the straight and narrow, she also would have been a liar to pretend she would not have enjoyed a steadier income that allowed for more than just hopping from place to place until something better came along.</p><p>"You good?"</p><p>"What? Yeah. Yeah, I'm good," Sam replied, squaring her shoulders in the wake of the look Chris sent her way that signified there was absolutely no way he had failed to notice the flinch she had given in response to the realization that he had materialized at her side without her even noticing at all, "You can stop looking at me like that, Chris. You just startled me, that's all."</p><p>"Sure."</p><p>"You did."</p><p>"Okay," Chris shrugged, setting off towards the front door, and leaving Sam staring after him for only a moment, her eyes narrowed as she tried to determine whether or not he had believed her hasty remark or not. Instinct prompted her to lean towards the negative, though she was wise enough not to press the matter, knowing that if she did, she might just be forced to confess to things she was not prepared to face. He did not know what she did for a living, or at least she didn't think he did. Not yet. And, if she had anything to say about it, Sam would make sure that he never knew the real reason she had come to Denver.</p><p>If he did, she knew he would try to talk her out of it and that was a reality she simply could not afford.</p><p>Gritting her teeth against the prospect, Sam forced herself to jog to keep up with Chris' significantly longer strides as he closed the distance to the front door of the ranch, her eyes almost immediately squinting against the flare of the light he flicked on just after passing through the door. She had grown somewhat accustomed to the darkness of the truck cab, and the meager light of the moon outside. And now, when faced with the idea of her every expression and reaction being easily readable beneath the soft glow of the table lamp stood beside the door, Sam found that it took all the strength she possessed to shut the door behind her while Chris headed towards the neighboring kitchen, the soft clink of beer glasses rattling as he opened the refrigerator door serving as a sort of grounding device to keep her standing, when she could feel her hands starting to tremble until she was forced to curl them into fists.</p><p>"Cold one?"</p><p>"Yeah. Sure," Sam agreed, turning her attention to the task of removing her boots so that she could hopefully earn a moment or two to steady herself, and school her expression into something less fearful than what she suspected it was, right now, "Thanks."</p><p>When all that greeted her words was a soft grunt, and renewed clinking of bottles as Chris shut the refrigerator door once again, Sam turned to make a show of looking around, her heart flipping over in her chest at the thought of her brother seeing right through her attempts at acting casual, and questioning her on it, first-hand. But when none of that was forthcoming, and he simply came to stand at her side, a bottle extended her way while he took a swig from the one held in the opposite hand, Sam allowed herself to relax enough to take the proffered bottle, her fingers curling around the cool glass before she opted for breaking the silence between them before Chris could do so, himself.</p><p>"Not gonna lie, I kinda feel like I'm back in your office."</p><p>"Oh?"</p><p>"No pictures," Sam explained, turning to face her brother head-on, and tilting her head to the side just a bit in light of the appraising expression he had leveled her way in turn, "Don't you need a bit of decor to make it more-"</p><p>"More what?"</p><p>"Homey."</p><p>"Wow."</p><p>"What? It's a word," Sam assured, pausing for just long enough to take a swig of her beer, and then stepping around her brother's taller frame to head towards the den, and flop down onto the sofa while he followed close behind, "You don't believe me, look it up."</p><p>"Think I'll pass."</p><p>"Anyone ever tell you you're no fun?"</p><p>"Just you," Chris said, moving around the sofa to take a seat beside the spot Sam had already chosen, and noting how she seemed to tense for just a moment as his shoulder brushed against her own, "Don't need pictures to make a home, Sam."</p><p>"No, but they help."</p><p>In response to the flicker of emotion that ran across Chris' expression in response to her attempt at teasing, Sam stilled, regret causing her stomach to clench as she realized exactly what she had done. Sarah had always been the one for decorating. For leaving little mementos here and there to warm up a home, and make it look lived in…</p><p>There was a very likely reason for Chris' reluctance to do the same, and she had just thrown that in his face, whether she wanted to or not.</p><p>"Chris, I-I'm sorry."</p><p>"It's fine."</p><p>"No, I-I didn't mean to-" Sam began, only to find the words clogging in her throat as she watched Chris lean forward towards the coffee table, reaching for the remote, and flicking on the flatscreen directly across the room, before placing the device on the sofa cushion beside him, and speaking up before she could make any attempts at backtracking again.</p><p>"Heard there's an Avalanche game on at six. You in?"</p><p>"Yeah. Yeah, Chris, I'm in."</p><p>Though she was under no illusions when it came to her brother's reticence when it came to discussing his own inner turmoil, Sam still felt the sting behind the abrupt end to their conversation, whether Chris had meant for that to be the case, or not.</p><p>Maybe she would have been better off keeping her mouth shut, and returning to the hotel, after all.</p><p>…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The following morning, Sam woke to an empty house, her footsteps seeming to echo against the hardwood floors despite the fact that they hardly made a sound at all. She had already found the note, brief as it was, scrawled on a scrap of paper and left beside the coffee machine, and a bottle of ibuprofen, stating Chris had already left to get an early start at work, but that she was welcome swing by later, since Buck would probably insist on her joining them for lunch, anyway. A smile had twitched at her lips at that, knowing full well that if she did not make it to the field office by noon on the dot, Buck would be en route to the ranch to collect her himself. But of course almost as soon as the thought had occurred to her, it was tarnished by the thought of how, if she did choose to join them for lunch, she would likely be putting herself face to face with a man she had never thought to see again.</p><p>How long could she really hope to keep what had happened between them a secret, around men who were trained to read everything they could about a person without that individual ever having to say a word?</p><p>Leaning back against the countertop while she allowed the scent of brewing coffee to seep into her very pores, Sam allowed her head to drift back until she could feel it bumping against the cupboard behind her. Dimly, she recalled the numerous times she had witnessed, first-hand, how Buck's own indiscretions had often backfired when she was younger, and he would come to Chris as though he thought her taciturn older brother could right all of his wrongs better than he could, himself. She remembered watching as Chris simply fixed his best friend with a look that would have stalled a lesser man in their tracks, while she made a mental note to never allow her own transgressions to bite her as Buck had done with his.</p><p>As numerous people had likely already said, my, how the tables had turned.</p><p>Brought back to the present by the sound of the coffee maker's shrill beep, Sam settled to the task of pouring herself a cup of the steaming liquid, and lifting it to her lips despite knowing that it would likely burn her tongue. In truth, she relished that sensation, as it gave her a momentary distraction from her own predicament. Of course, it did not last long, her shoulders slumping a bit as she continued to sip at the coffee, and eyed the decor of her brother's kitchen, as always, leaning more towards the practical and efficient than anything else. For a moment, she was almost tempted to compare it to their mother's kitchen, littered with cook books, small figurines of chickens, and chipped paint on the cupboards signifying decades of habitual use. But knowing that thoughts of her childhood would only lead to thoughts of all of the things she regretted after becoming an adult, Sam resisted, her feet propelling her out of the kitchen, and towards the sofa instead so that she could reach for the remote that still rested upon the cushions, and flip on the television in hopes of finding a more successful method of distraction therein.</p><p>If nothing else, a few hours of losing herself in whatever crime drama happened to be airing would perhaps allow her to temporarily forget the prospect of what awaited her at the field office later that afternoon.</p><p>Not what, though. Who…</p><p>…</p><p>"You good, Ezra?"</p><p>"Perfectly fine, Mr. Dunne. Why do you ask?"</p><p>"Just seemed a little quiet is all," JD remarked, cocking his head to the side in response to Ezra's apparent distraction, and leaning on the edge of the older man's desk with arms crossed against his chest before going on, "You don't like a slow case, do you?"</p><p>"How very astute of you to notice."</p><p>"That's-that's a good thing, right? That I noticed?"</p><p>"I suppose that would depend on the temperament of the person you were observing," Ezra shrugged, forcing himself to look JD in the eye, despite how every self-serving instinct he possessed all but demanded he find some means of getting rid of his apparent companion, and persevering on his own as he always had, before. In truth, he was still relatively accustomed to the idea of going through life as a member of a team, sharing whatever they deemed fit, and facing it together, rather than as a single entity. Growing up, he had never known that kind of a bond, though with the life his mother led, the reality of that was not all that surprising. She had never been one to encourage forming connections, other than when it would facilitate personal gain.</p><p>Perhaps that was why he was suddenly so unsure in light of the potential for discovery regarding his involvement with a woman who just so happened to be his team leader's sister.</p><p>Thinking back to the night in question that had apparently started all of this, Ezra could not recall a single moment where the thought to ask for the woman's last name had ever occurred to him. Of course, in light of what they both knew they were going to end up doing, it didn't really seem like a necessary question at all. And although he wished he could have answered the question of whether he would have allowed things to proceed how they had, if he did know exactly who Sam may have been related to, Ezra found he could not, no matter how hard he tried…</p><p>In the matter of whether he could have turned away from a woman who so clearly wanted to take him to bed, knowing who she was without any doubt, Ezra simply did not know what answer to give.</p><p>Still, no matter how he might wish to have unlimited time to turn the idea over and over in his mind, Ezra knew that he could hardly afford to at the present moment, particularly since he could sense how JD's eyes had narrowed in suspicion over his prolonged silence already, without ever having to look at his face.</p><p>"I can assure you, Mr. Dunne, I am fine. And it might be prudent for you to attempt to use this downtime to your advantage and finish up that paperwork that has to be at least three days late, by now."</p><p>"Yeah, reckon you're right," JD groaned, dragging a hand across his face, and straightening from the edge of Ezra's desk, casting a forlorn look at the paperwork he could already see on the surface of his own desk not far away, "Guess I don't really like slow cases, either."</p><p>"I gathered as much," Ezra remarked, managing a smile for the younger man, and then making a shooing gesture with both hands that had JD laughing, even in spite of his apparent distaste for the job ahead, "Go, before Mr. Larabee decides to blame your lack of progress on me."</p><p>After all, there would be enough displeasure from the team leader to come that had absolutely nothing to do with slacking off on the job…</p><p>…</p><p>"So-Sammie girl comin' to lunch?"</p><p>"What do you think, Buck?" Chris retorted, sparing only a moment to glance at the man slouched in the chair opposite his desk, one hand fiddling with the sunglasses hooked on the neckline of his shirt while the other dangled idly over the arm of the chair. For a moment, Chris was tempted to tell him, for the umpteenth time, to get back to his own desk, and try focusing on his own work, for once. But as soon as he considered opening his mouth to do exactly that, he resisted, instead turning his attention to the stack of papers still requiring his signature while Buck took the liberty of keeping the silence between them from becoming too lengthy.</p><p>"Seems like she could use a good meal. Girl's gettin' too skinny."</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"She tell you anything about what she was doin' while she was away?"</p><p>"Nothin' we didn't already know."</p><p>"Think she'd talk to ole Buck about it?"</p><p>In lieu of a reply, Chris settled for a simple raised brow for Buck's benefit, despite knowing the gesture was likely to be a futile one at its inception. Part of him wanted to remind Buck that Sam marched to the beat of her own drummer. She always had, and she probably always would. But a still larger part of him was every bit as invested in the reason behind her sudden reappearance after months of radio silence as Buck appeared to be, himself.</p><p>The difference, he supposed, was that Buck lacked much in the way of a filter between his curiosity and the subject who had inspired it, and Chris?</p><p>He had failed to get to the bottom of Sam's whims every single time he had tried.</p><p>It wasn't that she had never been willing to tell him what was on her mind. In fact, when she was still just a girl, he had more often than not been the person she came to first with something that troubled her, or something she simply wanted to get off of her chest. But, over time, those moments had trickled off until they were few and far between, and then ceased altogether. He knew why. In fact, he could pinpoint the very moment when Sam had started to see his reactions to her thoughts as potentially combustible, rather than quietly accepting as they had been, before. In the blink of an eye, she had left their house the same quirky, slightly rash young woman he had always endeavored to protect, and come back a shell of who she used to be.</p><p>She had disappeared with Sarah for the remainder of that evening, and even now, Chris had never been able to get from his sister exactly what had happened to leave her so changed.</p><p>The following day he and Buck had left for a conference with one of the other teams L.A, and everything had changed before he could even think to stop it.</p><p>Determined to avoid spending too long dwelling on that particular event, however, Chris risked another glance at Buck as the other man shifted with the subsequent squeak of protest the chair gave betraying the movement, and prompting a sheepish grin to his lips in response. Buck knew better than most that pushing his friend when he did not want to be pushed was a sure fire recipe for disaster. But even then, Chris could appreciate the unspoken offer inherent in the other man's presence in his office, whether invited or not, and so he ignored the desire to shoo his old friend away, instead meeting his concerned expression head-on as he placed his pen upon the surface of his desk, and leaned back in his own chair before he spoke.</p><p>"What is it, Buck?"</p><p>"I just wanna make sure she's okay," Buck began, lifting the hand that was not clutching his sunglasses to run his fingers through the hair on the top of his head, and shifting once again in the chair before going on, "She's good at keepin' everyone at arm's length, you know. Kinda like someone else I know."</p><p>"Careful, Buck."</p><p>"What? It's the truth! She's just like you, Chris, and I think ya know it."</p><p>Frowning at the comparison, and yet not having the necessary wherewithal to deny it with sufficient proof, Chris simply dragged a hand across increasingly exhausted features, his free hand curling reflexively into a fist, and uncurling in almost the same motion in a half-hearted attempt at releasing some of the tension he had been holding onto for only God knew how long. He had never wanted Sam to share his outlook on life. Never wanted her to trend towards cynicism, and keep herself guarded more often than not. But of course, after a certain point, he had been forced to come to terms with the fact that he had very little control over his sister's life, and what it might become.</p><p>He loved her without question, but he didn't have a clue how to approach her, sometimes, and he was well-aware that such a thing probably stemmed from his own inability to comprehend his own feelings on a day to day basis.</p><p>"Not so sure that's a good thing," Chris finally managed, leaning forward to place both elbows upon the desk, and folding his fingers together to give himself something to focus on apart from the earnest concern in Buck's steady gaze as he replied.</p><p>"From where I'm sittin', I think it is. She's a good kid."</p><p>"She's hardly a kid anymore, Buck."</p><p>"Yeah, but from how you were actin' at the bar last night, seems you're still the same protective big brother she's always had."</p><p>Chris had half-opened his mouth to reply. To deny Buck's claim, because Sam was a grown damn woman now, and certainly more than capable of protecting herself. But before he had the chance, a knock sounded on his office door, effectively diverting his own attention, and causing Buck to crane around in his own chair to look at the source of the interruption for himself.</p><p>"Am I interrupting a moment? I seem to be interrupting a moment," Sam's voice called, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she stepped into the office, and moved to perch on the arm of Buck's chair, "I can always come back-"</p><p>"Nah, your big brother and I were just talkin' about you."</p><p>"Oh really?" Sam replied, lifting a brow and turning her attention to Chris while Buck simultaneously wound an arm around her waist, and tugged her closer in the same motion, "Tell me you weren't rehashing the glory days again."</p><p>"Hadn't even gotten there yet, Sammie. But don't think I forgot about the bucket of worms you dumped in my shoes."</p><p>"Oh my God, that was one time!"</p><p>"Once was enough, trust me."</p><p>"Really? Because I was thinking about reliving it. For old time's sake," Sam teased, twisting away from Buck's hold and escaping her perch on the arm of his chair, in favor of moving towards the wall to take up a position equidistant from both her brother, and his oldest friend. Eyeing Chris' expression from her current position, Sam noted the slight shake of the head he gave in response to her antics, and completely failed to suppress her own smile in response. Even if only for a moment, she could forget about the reason behind her visit. The risk inherent in spending too much time at the office, when she had not been blind to the presence of the man-Ezra-in the bullpen with some of the other men she recalled meeting the evening before. For just a little while, she was the same little girl she had always been, wedging herself between Chris and Buck despite the difference in age, and in spite of the fact that maybe they hadn't always wanted her around.</p><p>It was a relief to let her guard down, even if it was only a little bit, and she was hard-pressed to maintain her previously stoic expression as she simply took in her brother's predictable exasperation as though it were a familiar embrace.</p><p>"You got a minute? Some of us actually like to meet deadlines on case reports," Chris inquired, casting a significant look at Buck that had Sam failing to entirely withhold a snort of amusement as she replied.</p><p>"Sure thing. Find me when you're ready to leave?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>Turning back towards the door to Chris' office, Sam spent only a fraction of a moment lingering in the frame, her gaze sweeping over the room as a whole and noting a few different things, all at once. For one, JD was clearly seated at his own desk, bent over a stack of papers with a furrow in his brow. Josiah, and the man she thought she recalled being introduced as Vin were not far away, eyeing a whiteboard with various details scrawled on its surface that Sam did not even bother attempting to read, with another, darker skinned man standing between them. And finally, the very man she was not entirely sure she wanted to confront was lounging at what was so obviously his own desk, apart from the others, and rather obviously watching her, as though trying to discern what she was preparing to do.</p><p>It seemed that was all the push she needed to decide she would be better served by biting the metaphorical bullet, and trying to impress upon him the importance of keeping silent about what they had done before Chris and Buck left his office, and anyone else moved from their current post and became capable of noticing their conversation at all.</p><p>…..</p><p>Never once looking away from Sam as she moved across the room towards where he sat, Ezra regarded her with a skeptically raised brow, and thanked an entity he still wasn't entirely sure he believed in that the rest of his teammates were, at least for the moment, otherwise occupied. He could not honestly tell if her expression was indicative of only a simple chat, or if she was preparing to tell him Chris knew what they had done, and the consequences of that knowledge was a mere hairsbreadth away. And so, he simply regarded her for a moment as she came to a stop beside his desk, her fingertips tapping idly on its surface for a moment before she spoke.</p><p>"Hey."</p><p>"What an effusive greeting. I'm impressed."</p><p>"You should be," Sam quipped, whatever uncertainty she may have felt in the face of her decision to approach Ezra before he could do the same to her fading away as she took in his slight smile over having so easily gotten a rise out of her, and folded her arms across her chest in response, "This isn't-this is not funny, Ezra."</p><p>"Oh, on that I agree, Miss Larabee. It is most definitely not funny," Ezra agreed, ignoring the way in which the fire that flashed in Sam's eyes for only a moment was almost begging him to torment her further, his expression turning serious as he shifted for just a moment before going on, "You might have mentioned your family tree."</p><p>"Wasn't aware that was the sort of thing you went in for as pillow talk."</p><p>"Well apparently, I might surprise you on that score."</p><p>"Apparently."</p><p>"Does our esteemed mutual acquaintance know-"</p><p>"He doesn't know a thing," Sam cut in, aware of the doubt that still seemed to linger in Ezra's expression, and exhaling in exasperation while simultaneously lifting a hand to drag through her hair, "He doesn't. And he won't. At least not from me."</p><p>"Am I to assume my livelihood will depend on this secrecy?"</p><p>"You could say that."</p><p>"Then I suppose I should be thanking you for the information," Ezra surmised, the scoff Sam gave in response to the gratitude indicating exactly how superficial she believed it to be. Unable to explain why the thought troubled him, Ezra settled instead for shifting just a bit until he could observe not only Sam's expression, but the movements of Vin, Josiah, Nathan and JD as they remained on the opposite side of the bullpen, his eyes tracking her own movements as she turned back towards her brother's office as though expecting an appearance at any moment. He understood the apprehension, of course, as he was feeling some of the same, himself. But in spite of that, Ezra seemed utterly incapable of resisting the urge to lean forward just a bit until he was very much in Sam's personal space, the wide-eyed look that flashed across her features in response worth every possible consequence that could have come his way, should Chris choose that very moment to make an appearance as well.</p><p>"I don't suppose I could convince you to partake in a rematch-"</p><p>Ezra had expected her to recoil. To slap him. Something to tell him that his apparent reliance upon humor was in no way, shape or form appreciated, or appropriate given their current location. But in spite of all of those expectations, the gambler found himself frozen in place as Sam leaned forward until she could reach across him for where his cellphone lingered on top of his desk, a strand of her hair brushing against his forehead while he tried as best he could to ignore the slight hint of cherry blossom in her perfume.</p><p>"I think I could be persuaded."</p><p>Before he could even attempt to manage a suitable response, Ezra found himself powerless to do anything other than watch as Sam dropped his phone into his lap, and turned to walk back towards the office just as Chris and Buck were appearing to stand from their seats and head towards the bullpen themselves, his eyes drifting down to the still illuminated screen in time to note that a phone number was blinking on the surface, waiting for him to press 'accept.'</p><p>In the space where one would ordinarily type out a name of the new contact, Sam had simply left what appeared to be an emoticon.</p><p>It was winking.</p><p>…</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Squished between Buck and Chris in the booth the hostess had led the team towards not long after they had first arrived, Sam watched with a skeptically raised brow as Buck shamelessly flirted with the waitress who had just circled back with their drinks, her teeth chewing absently on the tip of the straw in her iced tea in hopes that the effort would prevent her from giving in to the overwhelming urge to tease him about it in seconds, flat. Truthfully, it was nothing short of a relief to find that he had not changed a bit, and Sam highly doubted he ever would. And so, even though she wanted to fire away a quip or two in response to the obvious reluctance on the waitress' part to be a part of any of Buck's attempts at seduction, she remained silent, at least until her attention was momentarily diverted by the realization that the man she now knew as Josiah was addressing her, first-hand.</p><p>"Any idea how long we're going to be blessed with the pleasure of your company?"</p><p>"I guess that all depends on how long Chris is willing to put up with me," Sam replied, giving her brother a light nudge in the ribs with her elbow, a corner of her mouth lifting as she noted the slightly quirked brow that she received in response, "And how long the rest of you are, I suppose."</p><p>"Reckon we can accept your presence for as long as you need. Might do Chris some good to have a feminine influence around," Josiah mused, aware of the skeptical expression that had taken over Sam's features, though he did not have a moment to clarify, in the wake of Buck's ready laugh, and sudden inclusion in the conversation.</p><p>"Sammie ain't exactly what I'd call a feminine touch, Josiah. Been 'round me an' Chris too long for all that."</p><p>"Gee, thanks, Buck. Just what a girl always wants to hear."</p><p>"Any time, Sammie. Any time."</p><p>"Mr. Wilmington seems to elicit these responses every time he attempts to charm a lady. Perhaps he should use this as a sign to try an alternative technique."</p><p>"Maybe he should," Sam agreed, resisting the smile that tugged at the corners of mouth in response to Ezra's suggestion, and hoping that her outward expression would not betray the renewed flare of nerves she felt over the reminder of his presence, "Might stand a chance at getting with that pretty little waitress at the bar, if he did."</p><p>"I'm not altogether certain we should go that far," Ezra countered, holding out a hand to waylay Buck's obviously impending retort, and sending a sly wink Sam's way, whether or not he knew it was a risk given the reality of Chris' silent presence at her side, "Our friend might be inclined to let it go to his head."</p><p>"Fair point. I take it all back."</p><p>"Very funny, you two. Very funny," Buck griped, rolling his eyes in the wake of the apparent camaraderie that had formed between Sam, and the team's resident undercover man, before turning his attention to Chris instead, in hopes of enlisting some help in his apparent plight, "You wanna reel your sister in there, Chris? I'm gettin' real close to bein' in over my head, here."</p><p>"Never had much luck doin' that, before."</p><p>"There's a first time for everything."</p><p>"Not this time, Buck," Chris disagreed, glancing towards Sam, and noting her obviously feigned innocent smile with an equal mix of exasperation and amusement over the idea of being faced with unlimited exposure to her unending bickering with his oldest friend, "She stopped listening to me 'round eight years old."</p><p>"Hey!"</p><p>In response to her affronted exclamation, Sam found herself faced with the almost predictable silent glance from Chris, his expression all but daring her to disagree, and forcing her to bite down on the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud. She knew he was right, of course, whether she would ever admit it aloud or not. But before she could manage to come up with any possible response to attempt saving face in front of the rest of her brother's team, Sam found herself distracted by the sudden buzz of her cellphone inside the front pocket of her jeans, her hand moving to withdraw the device, and her heart jumping in her chest as she recognized the number flashing across the screen.</p><p>"Mind scootin' over, Buck? I really need to take this."</p><p>Though she could practically feel Chris' eyes following her movements as she scooted out of the booth, and managed what she hoped would be a reassuring smile for Buck before brushing past him and weaving her way through the tables spread across the floor until she reached the exit, Sam did her best to ignore the sudden churning in her gut, her breaths coming faster as she pushed past the door, and stepped into the humid air outside. Moving towards one of the benches situated beside the door, Sam took a seat while simultaneously accepting the call, and bringing the phone to her ear, her teeth digging into her lower lip for only a moment before she summoned the wherewithal to speak.</p><p>"Hello?"</p><p>"Can you talk?"</p><p>"Wouldn't have answered the call if I couldn't," Sam quipped, dragging her free hand through her hair in an effort to stall the wind from blowing the strands in front of her face, and leaning back against the bench before going on, "You find a lead?"</p><p>"You could say that," The caller confirmed, the sound of faintly clicking keys in the background giving Sam every reason to believe that whatever data that had been located to prompt this call to begin with was still very much a work in progress, "I take it you're in Denver already?"</p><p>"I am."</p><p>"Good. Our man on the inside was able to make contact last night. That's where the target is, too."</p><p>"Taylor is still in?" Sam inquired, surprise coloring her tone as she gave a hasty glance towards the door that had just swung open, her muscles tensing until she realized the person passing through was an older man with a carryout bag clutched in one hand, and not her brother or Buck coming to check on her as she had initially feared, "I thought he was nearly exposed."</p><p>"He wanted to stay until the last moment. From what I can see, his cover's still good."</p><p>"And he's sure the job in Denver is a go?"</p><p>"He is. Are you ready to move when he needs you?"</p><p>"Of course I am, Williams. Why wouldn't I be?"</p><p>"Maybe because I know what it almost cost you the last time we almost caught this guy," The caller-a genius crime tech Sam had worked with prior to her arrival in Denver named Nick Williams-explained, exasperation apparent in the words, no matter how he may have wished to avoid it, "I was there, remember. I saw you in the hospital-"</p><p>"And I'm fine. Completely healed," Sam cut in, leaning forward to place her elbows upon her knees, while her free hand moved to massage at her temple to ward off the headache beginning to bloom there in response to the tension that reverberated through her frame, "Doctor cleared me a long time ago, and I think you know that."</p><p>"I'm not talking about being cleared physically, Sam. You never talked to someone about what happened."</p><p>"And I don't intend to. Why don't you just tell me what you've got, because sittin' here tryin' to analyze my mental state isn't doin' either of us any favors."</p><p>"You sure?"</p><p>"Nick-"</p><p>"Okay, okay," Williams amended, concern still apparent in his tone, though he clearly acquiesced to Sam's demand readily enough, "Word is, he's plannin' on hitting a few heavy hitters in the banking world back to back."</p><p>"Any idea which one he's gonna start on?"</p><p>"I've narrowed it down to three. JP Morgan Chase, Bank of Denver, and Wells Fargo."</p><p>"Addresses?"</p><p>"Sent to your email two minutes ago."</p><p>"We have enough time to get a better lead on the specifics?" Sam inquired, once again glancing towards the restaurant door as it opened, this time revealing a young couple arm in arm, headed towards a snazzy red Mercedes parked a few spaces away, "I can't exactly sit out in front of three places at once."</p><p>"I'm working on that, Sam, I promise. But I don't think I'm comfortable with you facing this on your own."</p><p>"There's really no other way for me to do it, Nick. And I won't be alone, if Taylor's on the inside."</p><p>"Even so, you'd be going in two against eight," Nick cautioned, aware of the almost immediate scoff Sam gave in response, and yet ignoring it as his concern over her welfare clearly overrode any need to handle her sensitivity around the topic at hand as carefully as he could, "This is bigger than any vendetta you may have."</p><p>"I'm not makin' it about a vendetta."</p><p>"You sure about that?"</p><p>"Of course I'm sure!" Sam exclaimed, once again leaning back against the wood of the bench, her head dropping back while her eyes squeezed shut in hopes of corralling the exasperation that had very nearly become overwhelming, "It's not about that. I swear. I just-we need to get this guy."</p><p>"Trust me, I know that."</p><p>"Then can you just trust me to get the job done?"</p><p>"Only if you promise me you'll be careful," Nick countered, almost capable of predicting the way in which Sam's mouth would open immediately to protest, and hurrying to finish speaking before she could do so, and stop him in his tracks, "And if you can let anyone else in on this, you should. Didn't you say you had a brother in Denver that was tied up in law enforcement?"</p><p>"I'm not gettin' him into this. I can't," Sam said, a chill running through her frame at the thought of what stood to happen if Chris ever found out about her means of making a living at the same time that she realized the door to the restaurant had opened once more, allowing Buck, her brother, and the rest of the team to exit in no time at all, "I gotta go."</p><p>"Sam-"</p><p>"Email me any new information you find, Nick. I gotta go."</p><p>Disconnecting the call before Williams could even form a word in protest, Sam forced herself to stand from the bench, her eyes squinting against the glare of the sun as she moved to meet her brother half-way. Where Buck was offering her the same welcoming smile, Chris' expression was leaving absolutely no doubt in her mind that he was reading whatever thought or emotion would make itself known upon her features. And so, in spite of the lingering doubt that twisted in her gut, Sam forced a smile, only faltering a tiny bit as Chris asked her the question she knew she really ought to have seen coming all along.</p><p>"Everything alright?"</p><p>"Yeah. All good," Sam confirmed, ignoring the skepticism that remained in her brother's appraisal, and turning her attention back to the rest of his team instead, "We leavin'?"</p><p>"New case."</p><p>Falling into step between Chris and Buck, and allowing the latter to loop an arm around her shoulders as they began the trek across the parking lot to their vehicles, Sam remained silent amidst the idle chatter that echoed around her from the other members of the team, knowing full well that if her brother's expression were anything to go by, she would still be faced with questions over her sudden phone call as soon as things calmed down. It would have been a lie to pretend she was not apprehensive about such a thing, though she did take some comfort in knowing with relative certainty that Chris would at least give her the liberty of waiting until they were alone to start in on the impending interrogation.</p><p>She supposed she would simply have to take the rest as it came, and hope for the best.</p><p>…</p><p>Vin Tanner sat in his usual place between Josiah and JD at the table in the team's conference room, his fingers toying idly with the pen he had brought along despite having no intention of using it in the first place. Ever since JD had pinned the photograph of the man at the heart of their next case on the whiteboard, he had been distracted, his jaw clenched so tightly a part of him wondered if his teeth might crack beneath the pressure. Try though he might, he could not seem to drag his gaze away from the man's face, the familiarity of the gaunt features, and innately suspicious eyes holding his attention despite knowing that if he did not stop, he would likely garner unwanted attention from his teammates as a result. But whether or not anyone noticed, Vin would have been a fool to deny that being faced with the prospect of coming up against Eli Joe once again had filled him with equal parts determination and uncertainty, the past he had managed to keep from his team suddenly far closer to the surface than he truly cared to admit.</p><p>It was not that he doubted his team's capability for understanding the uniqueness of the situation he had been through. No, it was simply the idea of anyone knowing that, once, he was not quite so dedicated to the right side of the law, whether or not they would judge him for that fact or not.</p><p>"Hey, uh-Vin? You-you good?"</p><p>"Yeah. Yeah, JD, I'm fine," Vin replied, aware that the muted conversation JD had initiated had rather quickly garnered Chris' attention, one of the man's brows lifting in silent question, and causing Vin to shake his head in hopes that he would be able to reassure his friend that nothing was amiss, "No need to worry 'bout me, kid."</p><p>"You sure?"</p><p>"Positive. Why don't ya pay attention to what Chris is sayin' so he don't come back here and kill us both with his bare hands."</p><p>"Yeah. Yeah, okay," JD agreed, ducking his head down to hide the soft laugh that escaped in response to Vin's suggestion, though that did not entirely relieve him of the concern he felt in the wake of the sniper's uncharacteristically tense demeanor. He knew he was nowhere near as skilled at reading people as Josiah seemed to be, his relative lack of experience in that regard almost tending to speak for itself. But even with that small hindrance, JD had always felt he was closest to Buck, and Vin as well, having developed a knack for being comfortable with either one of them far faster than he had with any of the rest. And it was that closeness that he felt allowed him to feel relatively certain regarding the instinct that told him Vin was not exactly himself, his attention shifting back towards the front of the room just as Chris nodded towards Josiah, who stood and began to hand out case files to everyone gathered around the table in the same motion.</p><p>"Your reading material, gentlemen. Enjoy."</p><p>"And here I thought we might have finally earned a relaxing evening," Ezra joked, ignoring the sharp look Chris sent his way, and turning towards the table at large while simultaneously thumbing through the pages compiled in the folder with mild intrigue, "It would appear I was grievously mistaken."</p><p>"Big plans tonight, Ez?"</p><p>"Wouldn't you like to know, Mr. Wilmington."</p><p>"As a matter of fact, I think I would," Buck pressed, leaning back in his chair until it balanced on the back two legs, his arms folded across his chest as he regarded the man he addressed with a quizzical eye, "There a special lady waitin' on your attention, or somethin'?"</p><p>"Now what on earth might have given you that idea?"</p><p>"Just a lucky guess."</p><p>"Well then, I regret to inform you that your suppositions are unfounded," Ezra stated, depositing the folder on the table before where he sat, and regarding Buck with a skeptically raised brow before going on, "You might want to stop while you're ahead, and spare yourself more disappointment."</p><p>"I ain't a quitter, Ezra. You know that."</p><p>"I believe everyone in the entire state of Colorado knows that, Mr. Wilmington."</p><p>"Good. Maybe we oughtta work on gettin' the whole damn country to know while we're at it."</p><p>"Buck-"</p><p>"Yeah, Chris?" Buck replied, turning away from Ezra even in spite of the slight twitch of the lips he gave in response to his remark, and looking Chris in the eye just in time to note the faint warning that was apparent in his expression while he spoke.</p><p>"Think maybe we can get back to work, now?"</p><p>"Sure thing."</p><p>"Ezra?"</p><p>"By all means, Mr. Larabee. Carry on," Ezra agreed, somewhat relieved to have Buck's inquiries as to his social activities cut short, though he made every effort to avoid allowing that feeling to show in his expression at all. He knew very well that he was playing with fire. That giving in to the instinctive desire to invite Sam over for a drink was absolutely the last possible thing he should be doing, particularly in light of the newest case that had fallen in their laps. But even with that knowledge, Ezra was still not exactly willing to write off the opportunity before him altogether, his gaze dropping to the folder on the table before him as Chris elaborated on the tentative plan for developing a cover identity, and taking the robbery crew down from within, and his hand strayed almost immediately towards where his phone rested in his pants pocket.</p><p>Given his penchant for adapting far more quickly than most to whatever situation fell before him, Ezra supposed that losing some preparation time for the work ahead in favor of spending the evening with a woman who should, for all intents and purposes, remain off-limits would be well worth the effort, when push came to shove.</p><p>If that made him a fool, so be it.</p><p>…</p>
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